L Lawliet and the Prisoner of Azkaban
by Pryotra
Summary: Fudge really should have been more careful when he asked the Prime Minster of England to air news about Sirius Black. After all, you never know whose attention you're going to attract.
1. Prologue: The Boy Who Died

_Author's Corner: This is not something that I would usually write. I usually like to keep characters in their respective universes, and I only like a few crossovers. However, I lost a bet with some of my friends. The consequence was that I had to write a crossover of two stories of their choice, and they were going to try to pick two groups that just didn't seem to go together. So I got Death Note and Harry Potter. _

_They're hoping that this story gets no reviews so that they can snicker at me. _

_I just know it._

_It's a good thing I like L, even if Death Note wasn't my favorite of stories, simply because I hate it when my favorite character dies. Harry Potter did the same to me. Most irritating...I mostly only watched the thing to watch L and Light dance in circles around each other. Also, I kind of liked Light's 'oh crud' faces sometimes._ _I loathed Light with the fury of a thousand suns..._

_Fortunately, the terms were I had to write a crossover where L went to Hogwarts with multiple chapters. They didn't say anything else or specify any kinds of terms, so I can play with it as I see fit. Hopefully, this won't turn into some mess of cliché 'LOLZ L is goin 2 hogwartz!1!one!elevenzies' crud. While I've actually never see one of those stories, and I see how it can turn into trash very quickly..._

_L and Harry are the principle characters, but this isn't LxHarry. At first L is going to be basically the only Death Note character present other than references or minor parts (And of course Wammy) at first, but I will add more as the books go on, mostly children from Wammy's House, but Light and Misa might turn up as well at some point. As far as pairings go, I'm currently playing with the idea of LxHermione and HarryxLuna, but that's just up for subjection and I'll listen to suggestions other than yaoi. As anyone who's read me before knows, I don't like it, I can't write it, and I just don't get it. It's not my fetish. I have a brainwashing thing. Also, while an L/harem sounds amusing, and I know plenty of girls who'd enlist, I won't write it._

_I am going to attempt to treat this like a serious story complete with plot, subplots, twists and everything else, and I will attempt to show off all characters as realistic rather than just bash everyone that I don't like. While this is a crossover, I believe that it can be both interesting and worth reading._

_I hope I keep up to standards and everyone enjoys._

_Disclaimer: Pryotra owns neither Death Note nor Harry Potter. If she did, L would have beaten Kira without having to write his name in the Death Note, and Voldemort might have just been a good guy to even the eleven-year-olds nightmares. _

_Now, without further ado._

_Pryotra presents:_

_L Lawliet and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

_**There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.  
-Louis L'Amour **_

* * *

L was dead.

This was not a difficult thing for him to realize. He had seen Raito's face grinning horrifically at him and felt the pain as his heart suddenly gave out. Besides, if he wasn't dead, he would still be sitting in with the Taskforce.

He had been right all along, but he had lost anyways. Blast his second guessing himself constantly. He should have just believed his instinct. This wasn't the first time that this had happened. What was worse what that it had cost not only his life but Wammy's too. He had expected his own death, but Wammy's...had not been in his plans...

When would he learn to trust his instincts before he allowed something to happen that he couldn't prevent?

He had known B was trouble all along too. Just the reports that he had received had made him almost certain, but that hadn't stopped him from allowing him to be educated. He hadn't had the proof.

Well, although it was irritating, Raito was going to be the one to rue this day and opening this can of worms.

L had left a little surprise behind for him.

Wammy's House was busily grooming his successors, and would be notified immediately. Was Raito stupid enough to think that L wouldn't have prepared for his own death? Or was it that Raito himself had, at some level, started to honestly believe that he was a god and immortal and because of that believed that everyone thought that way? He had come across people like that before.

L had chosen M and N as his successors already, although he hadn't actually told them that they were both his successors, and he wanted them to work together. No one person could have surpassed him, and L had prepared for his death knowing this. M and N had been chosen, not because of the 'nasty look in their eyes' as he had told them, but because they didn't idolize him. They respected him but more as a rival than as anything else. That was what was necessary in order to succeed him. L didn't want a clone. He didn't want another B. He wanted someone who could surpass him. Someone who wouldn't have the same weaknesses as he had

The others looked up to him too much for them to be able to deal correctly with criminals. Justice was difficult because it dealt with people, and people made mistakes, and people weren't just good or just evil. Even worse, people could get drunk on their own power. Even someone like L. He had even prepared for that.

M and N could, if necessary, deal out justice to L himself. With his pronouncement that day, they would feel no remorse. After all, if he only took cases that interested him and didn't care about justice, they were doing something that interested them. It would even out.

It was perfect, and it spelled out Kira's end.

Lies were useful things. Even if M was more likely (sixty-two percent) to know better, he was also more likely to fail. L would have rather the two had worked together, but there was only a ten percent chance of that happening due to the rivalry between them. Maybe that was why he had spoken to M and not N. N had a higher probability of winning their rivalry (eighty-seven percent), therefore it was only just for M to have something that N would never have in return.

And if L believed in anything, it was justice.

L looked around again in taking in as much as he could, but there wasn't a whole lot to take in. He was standing in what seemed to be either a large room or the darkness of hell, but there was a floor, and it was cold. He could apparently still feel which was interesting.

But where was he? Where those killed by the Death Note as well as those who used it condemned to being unable to enter heaven or hell? That hardly seemed right. Then again, for a shinigami to drop the Death Note anywhere he wanted was hardly fair either. For a man to kill fifteen people and walk away on grounds of insanity wasn't fair. For a child to be shunned and beaten because he was 'freaky' was another example of the injustice of life.

It appeared that that carried on into the afterlife. L had been hoping that that wouldn't be true.

"L Lawliet, a very deep, penetrating voice boomed from no real direction, causing L to straighten slightly and shift his eyes around. Nothing. Everything was dark, "I am going to make a deal with you."

L slumped forwards again, and stuck his hands in his pockets, "I will assume that you are in charge of the other shinigami. Where am I?"

"I am what you humans would call Death," the voice said, it sounded like it was slightly enjoying this, but it was hard to tell, "I am what you would consider the father of the shinigami, as incorrect as the case may be. You, Lawliet, are between heaven and hell. Everyone comes here first when they die and gets sent on. Under any other circumstance, you'd have been sent on to purgatory. You haven't exactly been a saint but you're not downstairs worthy either...management's gotten lenient lately...but this is a special case..."

So he spawned them. L found himself with the mental picture of the cell reproducing but doubted that that was quite the right image. He wasn't all that interested in how shinigami reproduced, and the knowledge would probably end up making him want to get his hands on a sugar bowl to remove the taste of bile anyways. It was also very possible that shinigami were those who had used a Death Note in their lifetimes.

It would be a clever way to deal with the rising population, and since you were only doing this with mass murderers, it evened out.

L was slightly surprised about purgatory. He would have expected something a little...hotter...in store for him. L didn't lie to himself. He was ruthless once he knew that someone had committed the crime, and he certainly believed that the ends justified the means. He would do almost anything to get the confession that he wanted.

It was hard to say when he had actually stopped caring about people outside of philosophy and justice. It was just something else that L had lost along the way. After all, the strength of L's ability as a detective was that L had no attachments and was perfectly willing to do anything, even things that weren't necessarily legal, to get the job done. Interpol didn't care much. They just wanted their criminals caught, and L didn't care what he became. As long as justice was served and people were able to live in a degree of peace, he was happy. After all, after his first case, L had dived head first into the worse side of humanity, and vowed to fight until he died.

"So you are responsible for the Death Notes as well," L said, ignoring the use of his original name and his own thoughts. It had been years since he had thought of himself as Lawliet, and it had little meaning to him that wasn't sentimental. He was simply L now. It wasn't like anyone had known 'Lawliet' anyways.

"Yes, the shinigami king boomed, "It is my responsibility to regulate who dies and to keep balance and keep with Fate's dictates. While it is amusing to allow my children to play in the human world, they sometimes throw things so out of balance that I am forced to do something. That is why you are here."

L was silent.

"You should have died at the age of sixty-seven with a long, successful career behind you, and a wife and children mourning your passing. Your untimely death has upset Fate so badly that I am being forced give you up. I don't like it when this happens. I make my record look terrible, and then everyone else starts snickering at me. It's getting almost as bad as when Pestilence lost a bet with Chaos. He still hasn't heard the end to that one, and now Chance is starting to get snarky and I think that...oh...ahem..."

The booming had been going down as the shinigami king spoke, and L suspected that the shinigami king was far less impressive than he sounded, and probably had some kind of impressive shell that hid the fact that he was an ordinary looking shinigami or even something that looked relatively like a person.

"You will be brought back to life," the shinigami king continued, acting like that little rant hadn't happened, "And back in time."

"Before my death," L said, "I don't see that that will give me the time to do anything even if I do understand what is going to happen..."

"No, I mean to a much further time back, and you are not permitted to remember anything. Those are the rules for this kind of emergency. Management is very strict. I would bend the rules, but my record looks so bad right now..."

"But the probability of everything reoccurring the same way is ninety-eight point seven percent,  
L pointed out, "Such a rule is illogical."

Laughter filled the entire dark space that L was in, and he felt a chill creep down his spine.

"One who as entered this place is given certain gifts and Fate is already on your side, boy. As is Chaos for some reason. I guess she's not really into Destruction. The Death Note was used to alter Fate's desires and has made Chaos have to work with Destruction and Despair a little too much for her liking, so the two of them will make sure that you are given everything you need to face Kira. All you need to do is win. I'll be watching you, L Lawliet. You had better make your life interesting for me in gratitude for the embarrassment that I've suffered."

It felt like the floor had just dropped out underneath him. L was falling into darkness, it seemed like ages were passing and...

* * *

Lawliet opened his eyes and sat up, staring into space for a good fifteen minutes before starting to move. The twelve year old boy listened, but didn't hear the sound of Wammy. He apparently had gone out and hadn't come back yet. That was annoying. Almost as annoying as the fact that he had had to eat a normal meal the previous night. Wammy sometimes seemed to think that his habits were unhealthy for some reason.

That kind of food always knocked Lawliet out like a light. It seemed that the only things that he could eat without his brain using up all of the energy and him ending up in a stupor had a very high sugar content. That and sugar always got rid of the bitter taste in his mouth.

That was the best part of it!

He stumbled over to the small hotel fridge and started took out a large slice of cake, happily devouring it. He felt better already. It was a good thing that there was some left from the previous day.

He was ready to work again.

Lawliet was a small boy, looking even smaller due to the fact that he usually wore oversized clothing because they were more comfortable. His black hair was perpetually unbrushed and his eyes were always tired and encircle by rings so dark it looked like he was wearing mascara. He lived in various hotels around the world while he and his...well Lawliet supposed you could call him his handler, solved mysteries.

Lawliet was also known to the world as simply L.

Technically, Lawliet didn't have a last name since no one knew who his parents were. He had been brought to the orphanage where he had lived until eight by some bum who had found him in a dumpster. The man hadn't had a clue what the infant's name was, but he had gotten the honor of naming the infant that he had found. Who knew that some bums had a romantic streak? Lawliet had been known as that until he met Wammy and solved his first case and received his letter.

He was now referred to as L Lawliet, but he had been Lawliet for so long that, deep down, he still thought of himself as that. Wammy told him that that was possibly dangerous since he might accidentally call himself Lawliet instead of L, but Lawliet was careful.

After all, he didn't trust anyone.

Also, he almost never let people see him. For one thing, the police might get a little upset about the idea of a twelve-year-old solving some of their most difficult cases. For another, as he was one of the best detectives in the world, anyone who knew who he was could kill him.

Lawliet walked over to the desk where a laptop was waiting and sat down, sitting with his legs drawn into himself and his hands on his knees. It was one of the best ways to sit. The other was a crouch. Any other way made him feel slow and stupid. There were some files and cases that L hadn't finished looking at still up, and L wished that he could get on the Internet but couldn't without making Wammy unable to contact him.

He would just have to do things the old fashioned way.

It was a difficult case, involving a series of seemingly unconnected murders. It was made to look like a simple serial killing, but really it was a cover up for a large crime organization. If Lawliet was able to find just one more piece of evidence, he would have his case. All he had to do was prove that the pleasant looking hotel was the base ground for the operation, and he would be done.

He leaned over the papers, reading over them again. Even if he had a very good memory he liked to be sure. After all even photographic memories had a sixteen percent chance of failing to catch something very important if you only looked at something once. Lawliet traced a line with this finger and leaned forwards again. It might be a lonely life, but there were worse things.

After all, by the age of seven, Lawliet had decided that it was better to die of exhaustion than to die of boredom.

* * *

Quilish Wammy sometimes wondered if he was an evil person.

One of those times was when he was driving down the road looking at a small group of children playing in an arcade. Perhaps L should have been one of those children playing there. Happy, carefree, without cases to solve or the sins of humanity to think about. It was a thought that brought guilt into the old man's mind. He had been the one who had pushed Lawliet into becoming L after the bombings... Then again, if L had been there, those children wouldn't have anything to do with the poor boy. He still remembered how he had found him.

L's intelligence was astounding. His ability to take in information, remember, and focus were off the chart, but the cost of this amazing intelligence was that he was completely alienated him from everyone around him. He intimidated everyone with his strange habits and expressionless face. Even Wammy was never sure just what was going on behind those dead black eyes of his. Eyes that had learned all too soon that the world was unjust and had adapted by taking in all light around it, and refusing to allow anything to come out. Knowing that he could never change the world, but he could keep some things from getting out of control. No, L simply couldn't exist like a normal person. That was the price for genius, and L didn't seem to mind much.

Yet, he felt almost as if he was taking advantage of L's isolation to mold him into the perfect machine. L had been perfectly willing, but...still...perhaps he should insist that the boy return to Wammy's house and be surrounded with people that were at least somewhat like him.

No, they idolized him there, and L, being naturally shy and disliking people fawning over him, would avoid everyone and shut himself in his room as much as possible.

The problem was that L's isolation was a weakness. While the fact that L had no attachments made him impossible to manipulate, it also meant that if someone got close enough to him, it wouldn't be hard to get L to grow feelings for that person. Quite simply, L was lonely, even if he didn't know it himself. If L was only able to meet people his own age who were themselves isolated and outside of society but didn't know who he was, and wouldn't put him in the spotlight...

Wammy smiled to himself a little. He was thinking like some kind of concerned parent. Well, he had promised that he would always support L, ever since that day four years ago. He supposed that after a while, he had stopped looking at L like an invention that he must learn to copy and started to see him as a child that he had to protect.

Maybe that was why he spoiled the boy so much and allowed him to eat pretty much nothing but sweets, or maybe he wasn't so much of a father that he felt comfortable with restricting L's rather strange diet. He seemed to function well with it though. Give him a cake, and he could work for two days without sleeping, three if necessary, and more if he took hour naps in between.

Wammy pulled up his car into a vacant place in front of one of the police stations and got out, walking into the station. He was here to give a written conclusion to a written case. Some cases had to be done in complete secret, lest people tapping phone lines or plants in the station overhear things. L got many of those.

A few people looked up as Wammy walked in and past the desk. No one bothered to challenge him. They didn't really know who he was, but they knew that he was allowed to come and go as he pleased. The inside of the station was something of an office room. A lot of people in cubicles or cluttered desks with talking and complaining about their jobs.

As he passed by a young woman, well everyone seemed young to him nowadays, he caught a little bit of a conversation.

"-And now there's this Sirius Black person running around," she was sighing to her friend. "I'm telling you, I know why turned out to be a nutter. Anyone named that must have been teased every day of his life."

Her friend laughed and leaned on his desk, "You have a point," he nodded, "I'll tell something strange though. When looked up a little about this Black guy, I didn't find any kind of information. Maybe he's some kind of top secret case."

"You mean like the kind that never gets on the record because they would hurt the government or something?"

"Yeah, and now he's out,"

"That would be interesting, but why are we after him."

"So that it looks like a normal case, and to make sure that the public's safe, so that the greats can work without worrying."

Wammy was interested, if not in their speculations, but the fact that this 'Sirius Black' didn't exist on the records. He had heard him mentioned as an armed criminal who had escaped on the radio. Maybe he should do some checking of his own.

* * *

After an hour of sitting in the same position, eating cake and reading reports, Lawliet heard the door unlock.

He looked up as Wammy entered.

Wammy, Walmsley for the moment, was an elderly man who had a very kind looking face, white hair and seemingly inexhaustible resources. His grandfatherly disposition hid the fact that he was actually a very brilliant man by himself and extremely capable at many unpleasant things. He had lived through WWII as a child, losing his family in the Blitz, and at the war's end, he had sworn that he would never allow such a monstrosity to exist again. He had founded the prestigious Wammy's House, an orphanage for exceptionally brilliant children, as well as several other orphanages around the world that functioned to care for children in a better environment than most. He now acted as Lawliet's sole human companion, and had done so for one year now.

Lawliet, unlike most Wammy's students, had only stayed in the school for a year. Wammy had gone with him, saying that he would help Lawliet solve his cases from now on. Ever since then, Lawliet had been the famous detective L and Wammy had been the only way that anyone could ever speak to him unless L hacked into someone's computer. Sometimes L wondered just why Wammy had chosen to live like this, and if he actually liked L, or simply needed him.

"Good morning, Walmsley," Lawliet said in his usual soft monotone voice that was far too advanced for any child in its vocabulary and diction.

Wammy took no notice of the fact that Lawliet would have unnerved most people with that simple greeting, and greeted him as if Lawliet had greeted him in a bright, chipper voice.

"Good morning, L," He said, smiling at the boy, "I have some interesting news for you."

"What would that be?" Lawliet said. He was curious, but his face didn't show it. It remained in emotionless and his eyes stayed dead, though they were wider than usual.

"I was at one of the stations, getting those papers you asked for, when I heard a strange rumor. You might find it interesting," Wammy handed him a file that Lawliet took, holding it very delicately between his thumb and index finger.

He opened it to see a few reports and what looked like bad picture of a man in his early to mid-thirties, although he looked older. He was pale and thin, with an elbow length tangle of black hair and a dark, haunted look in his gray eyes. There was also something else, something...terribly hateful in them.

"Sirius Black," Lawliet said, looking at the picture, "Escaped sometime this month, but the media is being quiet about where he came from. There's no record of him that I've found. I had wondered if there was something wrong."

"The information about him seems to have come from the Prime Minister," Wammy said, sitting down in another chain, facing Lawliet, "But he seems to have appeared out of nowhere. Also, when I discussed the case with the chief of police, he said that the Prime Minister was hoping that you would be interested and help him. Would you like me to contact him."

"It's interesting," Lawliet said, "But I usually don't get involved with these sorts of cases as L. Dewey might take on a case like this, but L only gets involved when there have been ten murders or a million dollars."

Wammy smiled, "The Chief said something about the man killing thirteen people."

Lawliet looked at the photograph, his curiosity aroused, and wanting to take the case. True, it seemed a little like the PM was just trying to bait him into coming because it was hard, but...

"Something about this case seems like it's not as clear cut as it sounds," Lawliet said after a moment. "I'm...interested..."

"I'll get in touch with the Prime Minister as soon as possible," Wammy said, preparing to go, "Oh, and the Bertriam's Hotel murders?"

"Finished," Lawliet said, holding up a sheet of paper to Wammy.

"Then I'll prepare things from this case."

"Thank you, Whamsley," Lawliet looked back at the screen, and began to look up files and research for his next case.

How was he to know that this was a case that he was never supposed to have taken?

Somewhere, Fate smiled.

* * *

It was the first good news that the Prime Minister had had all month.

When the Minister of Magic had just decided that he wanted to visit, The Prime Minister had known that things were going to be bad for the month. For one thing, it was tiring to be treated like you were an inferior species who his superiors had to tolerate, and for another, he was at the disadvantage. He had been forced to make this announcement, but, thankfully, it had attracted the attention of the one person who could help.

It had only been four years since L had been heard of, but that case, the Winchester Mad Bombings, had almost started WWIII. No one had been able to even begin to solve the case before he came out of nowhere, with all the answers and the proof they needed.

After that, L's name had been like stating that a living Deus ex Machina. If L was involved, the case would be solved.

Now Whamsley, a man known as many different things over the world, and the only person who could contact L, had appeared.

The Prime Minister couldn't wait for the two sides to meet.

He stood in front of the portrait, with Whamsley behind him, setting up a laptop.

Clearing his throat, the Prime Minister looked at the man, "I would like to speak to the Minister of Magic." He said, "It's rather...urgent"

"It had better not be something to do with a war. Churchill tried that. We don't get involved in _your_ business," The portrait said.

"It's about this Black person," The Prime Minister said, "I have someone who might help you find him."

The portrait looked unconvinced, "I'll see if he wants to talk to you."

Oh yes, because the Minister of Magic can't waste his time with just anyone. Even if he comes popping in here whenever he felt like it.

The Prime Minister looked over to Whamsley, who was looking at the painting with a raised eyebrow. "You said that it would be difficult to believe, but I didn't know how right you were."

The Prime Minister sighed, "This has to be kept secret. Do you know what would happen if other people found out about this kind of power?"

"I can imagine," Whamsley said, "Don't worry, everything in this room will remain secret."

The Prime Minister nodded as the fire turned green.

Fudge didn't look all that different from the first time he had ever seen him. He was still wearing his green bowler hat, and looked a little irritable. He looked at the Prime Minister and huffed slightly.

"Really, Sir," Fudge said, "Being dragged away like this. I hope you weren't lying about Black."

"No," The Prime Minister smiled, "My actions, as unexplained as they were, caught the attention of the best possible person for this kind of case. He's never failed to solve one."

"Well, that might be true for Muggle criminals, but-" Fudge started, but was interrupted by the mechanical voice on the computer.

"Greetings. I am L."

Fudge almost jumped a foot in the air and looked at the computer with horror. Somewhere in the conversation it had turned on. It wasn't impressive looking. Just a white screen with a Gothic black-letter 'L' emblazoned on it, but the Prime Minister knew that symbol, as most people involved with the law or politics. No one in their right mind would have copied it. Even as a joke.

"Is that...a person?" He asked.

"If I were not a person, I could not my holding this conversation with you," The mechanical voice said, and the Prime Minister smiled, "I assume you are the client?"

"I'm..." Fudge began, but was starting to reach into his pocket for something.

The Prime Minister grabbed his hand, "This is Cornelius Fudge, a man who calls himself...the Minister of Magic."

There was a silence.

"Had I not seen this man walk out of the fireplace, I wouldn't believe you, but as it is, I will suspend my disbelief for the moment. I am contacting you because I have heard of the sudden escape of Sirius Black who has, up until now, no history whatsoever, but is credited for the deaths of thirteen people. I am willing to offer my services and hear more of this...interesting case."

Fudge looked irritated.

"I don't need the help of a Muggle Pleaseman to help with these matters," he muttered.

"What an offensive sounding name," the voice said, "and obviously you do need our help. After all, why would you have contacted us if it was a matter that you could deal with quickly. I assume that you and your government have existed for some time. If you had the chance to catch him without our knowledge, you would have by now. When Whamsley spoke to the Prime Minister, he seemed very happy that he could offer some kind of assistance on this operation. Wouldn't it be rude to ask for someone's help but not accept the help that they offer?"

The Prime Minister was smirking. Honestly it was fun to watch Fudge looking so uncomfortable.

"As Minister Fudge does not seem like he can answer my questions, can you tell me what the details are of this case as far as you know them, Prime Minister?" L asked him.

"Yes," The Prime Minister nodded, "From my understanding, this Black has escaped from a Wizard prison, through means unknown and possibly with aid. His goals are, at the moment unclear, but Fudge seems to think that he is going to be heading into London, or more particularly, the Surrey area."

"I see. Minister Fudge, is there a particular motive that this Black has?"

Before Fudge could answer, the empty fireplace lit itself again, and another man walked through. The Prime Minister hadn't seen him before, but he looked like he would have to be a Wizard. Everything from his long beard, crooked nose, and half-moon spectacles to his long robes gave him an impression of Merlin.

"Hello, Cornelius," the newcomer said, amiably, "I wanted to speak to you about some of your security measures and found a note saying you had gone to meet the Prime Minister. I hope everything is alright."

"Everything...is...fine..." Fudge said, and the Prime Minister got the feeling that the man didn't much like the newcomer, "The Prime Minister...was just...offering to help us...with one of those...detector things...I was going to refuse of course."

"Why do that?" the newcomer asked, "Surely there's no harm he can do. Is this the man?"

He turned towards Whamsley.

"No, this is Whamsley, my helper," L said.

The newcomer started almost as much as Fudge and looked at the computer with interest. The Prime Minister supposed that they used crystal balls or something. Obviously neither had ever seen a computer before.

"Remarkable," Dumbledore said, "I forget that Muggles are always coming up with new substations for magic. It's a little impolite of you to have us at such a disadvantage. Would you mind coming over so that we can talk?"

Before the Prime Minister could do anything, the man had taken a stick out of his hand and pointed it at the computer.

"**_Accedo!" _****The man said, pointing the stick at the computer.**

**It looked like a tunnel had opened up through it, and from that tunnel a figure was thrown into the room.**

**It was a boy. No more than thirteen, sprawled out on the carpet like some kind of deformed frog.**

**"L!" Whamsley said, rushing over to help the child up.**

**"What the-" the Prime Minister began, but never finished. The newcomer had already pointed the stick at him.**

**"****_Stupefy! Obliviate!_****" **

**And he knew no more.**

* * *

**Lawliet was in a position that he would not have thought possible an hour ago.**

**He had been thrown through his own computer into the office of the Prime Minister, who was now unconscious, and he was facing two people who had just shown abilities that looked like...**

**Magic.**

Lawliet did not believe in magic. He hadn't even particularly believed in Father Christmas, other than maybe in some kind of 'spirit of Christmas' sense when he was a child. Life was logical. Life had rules. Magic, if it existed, would be a way to break the rules, but it would have to have rules of its own. In fact, any kind of technology would be magic to someone who didn't know what it was. It was as simple as that.

Unfortunately, these thoughts were now rather hollow as he sat staring at the stick that was being pointed at him and the gun that Wammy was pointing at the man.

Lawliet knew that Wammy had a gun on him at all times, but this was one of the rare times that he had seen him take it out. Usually, he was left alone, but Wammy had taught Lawliet to shoot fairly well and, of course had started teaching him a martial art that was some kind of hybrid of capoeira and other styles the Lawliet only vaguely knew about.

"Fancy seeing you here, Quilish," the bearded old man with the stick said with a smile, "We seem to be in something of a stalemate."

"It's an unexpected pleasure, Albus," Wammy said, not moving the gun, "It's been some time since I've accidentally crossed paths with your world."

Albus looked over at Lawliet, and smiled a little bit. Honestly, the man reminded Lawliet somewhat of Wammy, when he had first met him at the age of eight. Friendly, well intentioned, but aloof and perfectly willing to do anything for what he thought was right. That determination was well hidden by a kindly manner and grandfatherly appearance, but it was there. While Lawliet knew that the man was to be respected, he was also to be watched carefully.

"So, this is your latest project?" he asked, "You always surprise me, but there's little you can do to help in this world."

"You would be surprised, Albus," Wammy smiled back.

"I do keep up with the Muggle news, and I know that L is supposedly an exceptionally good detective, but his methods don't work here. He would have to investigate in person, and his background would only hinder him."

"Then I will work in person under a false name," Lawliet shrugged. He was starting to get tired of being talked about like he wasn't there.

"Yes, but you'd have to have magic," Fudge said shortly, "and since you haven't-"

But Albus held up one hand to stop him.

"Quilish...has L here been in one place for over six months since he turned ten?"

Wammy smiled slightly.

"Why, Quilish, I believe you've been hiding something from me," He said, looking hurt, "If you thought there was a possibility, you should have allowed him to be educated here."

"What the devil is going on?" Fudge said, looking angrily back and forth between the two men.

Wammy turned to Lawliet.

"L, how much do you want to accept this case?" he asked.

"It's interesting, and the fact that I am being denied is making it more interesting. I would not have given the case the time that I am sixty percent sure it will take under normal circumstances. There are other cases that are pressing," Lawliet said, looking over at the two...strangers, "but the abilities that have been displayed are simply to interesting for me to walk away now."

Wammy nodded, "I thought so," he said and turned to Albus, "Albus, I will let you test him, but if you use a different spell..."

"How dare you threaten Dumbledore!" Fudge was starting to look irate.

"Cornelius," Albus said, raising one hand, "He's perfectly justified in his fears given the last time we met. I assure you, Quilish, I will only check your student. You have nothing to fear."

Wammy seemed satisfied and nodded.

Lawliet decided that if Wammy was alright with this, he wouldn't try to fight. He faced the wand calmly and didn't flinch as he heard something being said in what sounded like garbled up Latin.

A beam of gray light hit Lawliet in the chest, and for a moment he felt warm. Then he saw another light, this time a cold blue starting to appear along his skin the patterns of his veins. Lawliet stared for a moment at the white blue light that was mapping his body and looked up at the two men. The one with the green bowler hat, Fudge, was somewhere between being shocked and being livid. The other man, Albus, was smiling, his eyes twinkling, and Lawliet could tell that Albus was trying to factor him into some plan that he had already had.

"Just remember, Albus," Wammy said, stepping up, "He isn't quite your student. L is only to investigate the matter of Sirius Black from a position where he will be considered uninteresting. Since it is an unofficial law that all children go to your school, L will attend. I would like it if he could visit as often as he could. There is a great deal of work that must be done."

Fudge started to splutter.

"You can't just- Not- He'll see on the holidays like any other student," He said, spit flying from his mouth.

"He's not a normal student, Cornelius." Albus sighed, "I probably should have told you this to begin with. Quilish and I met some time ago, during the Muggle's Second World War and our war with the Dark Lord Grindlewald. We ended up somewhat stranded together in enemy territory, and we ended up talking a little. You really do end up talking a great deal to people you don't know if you're trapped with them. Quilish said that he wished to keep the war from ever being repeated, and that he would raise young geniuses from the world over with his ideals so that the most brilliant men and women alive would seek peace. If Quilish has decided to work personally with this boy, he will be a very unique student to have. Quilish, I cannot be overly favoristic towards your young charge, but I'll make sure that L can come to see you frequently. I'll allow him to floo to see you at frequent intervals."

"Would this be possible to do every night?" Lawliet asked, taking part in the conversation for the first time, "If this is 'magic' I would hope that it can be done. Do not worry about my getting enough rest. I will not trouble your classes."

"Well then," Albus said, smiling genially, "Welcome to Hogwarts, my dear boy."

And Chaos laughed.

* * *

_And cut!_

_Well, this is a little short, but it's sort of a prologue, so I hope you can forgive me. I will update when I have the change and I hope that you support me through this. _

_To those who caused this (you know who you are): Ha._

_Notes:_

_L's Name: As most people know by this time, L's real name is L Lawliet. I don't believe that his parents named him L. I know I wouldn't name my kid L, and Lawliet sounds like it could be a plausible first name. Since L was an orphan, there's a chance that L didn't have a last name, so Wammy could have given him L as another name after they met in L's first case. (Winchester Mad Bombings for all those who haven't read _Another Note_. I intend to discuss my version about them pretty soon.)_

_Justice: Yes, in that epilogue chapter with Near some years after the manga, L said that he didn't really care about justice in Near's flashback, but as one of the two creators of the series wasn't involved, I don't really know if I take it seriously or not. I kind of think that since L is a liar, and we all know that L is a liar, there's a good change that he was lying to the kids too. His actions in the series aren't one of a person who just wants to solve the case because it's fun. You don't all but torture someone, steal people's cellphones and try to solve the case _when you're gasping out your last _just because you kinda like to solve puzzles and are bored. Also, the only time L ever smiles in the entire series is when he says 'Justice will prevail' and I don't think he was being sarcastic._

_Dial up: Do you remember 1993? When the internet had just been spawned out for the public to use? When there was only a dial up connection to the net, and DSL was something only certain businesses and the military had? And you couldn't be on as much as you liked because someone might want to call or something? Oh, that was horrible... Then again, Gentile Reader, you probably don't remember...I feel so old..._

_Wammy: I honestly can't think that he wouldn't wonder if what he was doing was wrong. Also, he's a character who isn't really explored. How did he fell about opening an orphanage for the creation of Tykebombs? Oh, and yes, he and L are on their own. Both _L: Change the World _and _Another Note _gave me the the impression that L wasn't actually at Wammy's House for a very long time. After all, B and Near had never seen him, and Mello had only seen him once._

_Dewey: In _Another Note _Mello mentions that L basically had enough aliases to fill a phone book. I'm going to assume that he started picking them up early on. Dewey is just a random name I used._

_The Prime Minister vs Fudge: Let's face it, the Wizards are all a pretty prejudiced bunch. The Death Eaters are basically taking the mindset to its natural conclusion, there isn't a character (other than the Muggle Studies teacher who dies) who doesn't seem to buy into this mentality at least somewhat. Even Arthur Weasley seems more interested in the Muggles distant kind of way. Isolationism does that to you._

_Capoeira: While in _Another Note_ it seems like L doesn't know it, I think that, judging by the skills he showed in the manga and show, he probably was lying and had been trained in it for a while._


	2. Diagon Alley

_Author's Corner: I really, really appreciate this support I've gotten! It's really great since this is actually not a well traversed part of . Thanks everyone for your help!_

_You really annoyed my friends, so here's another chapter to celebrate with. Here's to a young L and his bad social skills!_

_Now, I think that I should mention some things about parings. First is that I'm probably going to have this little lovely be more than one book. Second, I have no intention of pairing anyone (other than hints) until much, much later. Next, I will have no pairings involving Ron. I hate Ron. I don't like Ginny much either, but she's kind of inconsequential to the story, so it doesn't matter. Ron is (to me) the most irritating character in the entire series. I will keep my hatred of him to a minimum in this story, but I seriously don't like Ron. I know most crossovers go along with canon pairings, but I really like the ones who take initiative to go with different ones. I will not bash Ron. I think bashing is a low thing to do, but don't expect him to feature much more than he has to, unless I try to...improve...his character, and any fan of him probably wouldn't like it. (He'd probably end up being something like Matsuda.)_

_Now, a lot of you have recommended L and Luna as a couple, and it's an interesting idea. (They're both ostracized and have odd tendencies) We'll see how things develop. If that does fly, it will probably be Harry/Hermione as well._

_I wouldn't worry too much about it anyways, romance isn't going to play much of a part of this story. That was one of the things I did kind of admire about Rowling. She didn't put as much focus on romance as many other books do, and I was grateful for it._

_I will try to follow in that spirit, focusing more on the friendships and hardships that the characters face rather than on the romance of their later lives._

_Thanks to Ibby (MegaB) for his wonderful work as my beta. Even when Harry Potter isn't really that interesting to him._

_**Coincidence may be described as the chance encounter of two unrelated causal chains which—miraculously, it seems—merge into a significant event.**_

_**- Arther Koestler**_

* * *

Harry Potter was having the time of his life.

Never before had been able to get up when he liked, do what he liked, eat what he liked and generally bum around without anyone to tell him what to do. It was a very sudden change from having to stay with the Dursleys.

It wasn't that long before Hogwarts started up again, but he was enjoying this brief freedom, and he was still kind of shocked that he had gotten off so lightly after blowing up Aunt Marge. All he had gotten was a 'don't go into Muggle London' as if he actually wanted to. Diagon Alley was so much more interesting, and he was able to do his homework in peace, even getting some help (and free ice cream) as well.

But Harry's mind wasn't completely clear.

He was still thinking about what that the black dog that he had seen when he was escaping the Dursleys, and how there was one on the front over of a book of death omens that looked completely identical to it. The fact that the Knight Bus had almost run over him when he had seen the dog didn't help the worry much.

Another thing that vaguely upset him was the fact that last year, he had gotten a warning from the Ministry of Magic that said he would get expelled if he practiced magic again just because a house elf smashed a pudding in the living room. This didn't match up with what had happened before.

These worries were only small questions in his mind though as he enjoyed basically bumming around Diagon Alley and finally getting his homework done, including that awful shrinking potion one for Professor Snape. He was even able to get free sundaes every half hour from Fortescue, the owner of the ice cream parlor while he told him what he knew about medieval witch burnings.

It was only a day before school started, and for the first time, Harry wasn't looking forward to the start with anything less than breathless anticipation. He was going to miss having this time to himself.

Harry wandered through the streets, wondering just what to do and where to go now that his witch burning essay was completed. He could go over the Flourish and Blots for a while and look at the books or maybe over to Dervish and Banges...

"Excuse me,"

Harry turned around to face the boy who had spoken to him.

He was about Harry's age with black hair and eyes and a permanent seeming slouch, and it looked like he had been dragged out of some alley with his beat up looking white sweater and jeans. But what was disturbing about him was the fact that his eyes didn't seem to reflect light. They were just like two holes.

What was also strange was that Harry didn't recognize him. Hogwarts was a big school, but you would know most of the people who were close to your year by sight at least. The fact that he was a total stranger was slightly disconcerting. Almost as much as the fact that the boy's face was only about three inches away from his.

Harry backed away a little bit.

"Um...yes?"

"I was looking for a bookstore. I believe that its name is Flourish and Blots. Could you direct me towards it?" The boy asked in a calm monotone voice.

"Oh, yeah, it's-" Harry began.

"Wallace!" A frustrated sounded voice called, and Harry gaped as he saw Professor McGonagall appear out of the crowd to step behind the boy, "I thought I told you to wait."

"You seemed like you were interested in the conversation, and I didn't wish to wait anymore," The boy, Wallace, said in the same monotone.

"That is no excuse," Professor McGonagall said, her mouth very, very thin. She turned to look at Harry and she nodded, "Hello, Potter. Wallace, this is Harry Potter. He'll at least share some of your classes. Potter, this is Justin Wallace. He'll be in your year."

Harry and Justin blinked at one another, or rather, Harry blinked at Justin and Justin just stared and started to chew on one finger. He didn't make the now familiar motion of looking up at the lightning shaped scar on his forehead, which was a relief, but his eyes never left his or seemed to change at all. The feeling that he was being analyzed was disconcerting.

"Er..." Harry really didn't know what to say.

"Potter, I'm sure you have somewhere to be," McGonagall said, looking at Harry very sternly.

Harry decided that it was best to do what she said and nodded.

"Good. I'll see you at the beginning of term," McGonagall dismissed him, and Harry decided that he wanted to look at Quality Quidditch Supplies again.

He did wonder what house Justin was going to be in though. It might be fun for him to be in Slytherin. It would be fun to see if they could manage to intimidate him.

* * *

"That was Black's target?" Lawliet asked as he watched Harry walk away.

He was abused. Not physically, but psychologically and emotionally. He hid it well enough for it not to be noticed, and there was a seventy-three percent chance that he would managed to function with it. Aside from that, Lawliet didn't see anything especially different about him at a first glance.

"Yes, I believe that Professor Dumbledore has informed you of the situation," Minerva McGonagall said, watching him go.

She wasn't as stern as she appeared, was prone to being very sentimental as far as her students were concerned, and held an unprofessional bias for her old house Gryffindor and against her old rival Slytherin. She also had a vast interest in a sport referred to as "Quidditch" which Lawliet was completely uninterested in. All in all she was a good (if not sometimes biased) source of information on the Wizarding world.

"The circumstances were all explained to me," Lawliet nodded.

Apparently, Harry Potter had, through means unknown, managed to kill a terrorist who styled himself Voldemort as an infant. This lead to his becoming extremely famous in Wizard Europe, but whether this was through Harry's inherent powers or some mistake on Voldermort's part couldn't be tested. That wasn't important anyways. What was important as far as Lawliet was concerned was that his family had trusted a man known as Sirius Black to protect them, but he had betrayed and caused the deaths of James and Lily Potter.

Lawliet was annoyed that Albus Dumbledore would, or could, not let him see the transcripts of the trial. It was always more convenient to learn that way, but Fudge, who was sure that he was wasting his time, would not allow it. It was making him want to solve the case even more. Just to rub it in the man's double-chinned face.

Lawliet must have been getting spoiled. He'd just have to go about things the way he had before meeting Whammy. It was more time consuming when he didn't have the law working with him, but he _would_ get the result.

"Our first stop is at Olivander's shop. He will equip you with a wand. That is the one essential to every Wizard. Then we will get your books." McGonagall said to him, "I don't want you telling any of this to Potter by the way."

"Excuse me?" Lawliet was honestly surprised. Wouldn't you want to inform a target that they were being targeted?

"He's...happy the way he is right now. The truth..." McGonagall trailed off.

"He's slightly older than I am," Lawliet pointed out, "A target should be informed when they are being targeted. It decreases the amount of foolish things that they will do. The stress is a factor, but one that can be worked with."

McGonagall's lips thinned and she looked at him as if seeing something else.

"That's a ruthless approach to this, Justin," She said, "Harry is barely thirteen."

Lawliet shrugged, "In order to catch criminals, ruthlessness is often necessary. People are able to put up with more than you would expect."

McGonagall said nothing, but Lawliet could sense her disapproval.

She hadn't much liked him from the beginning, but he had probably gone too far for her. All of them, even Dumbledore had the idea that this Harry Potter had to be protected from some unknown horror, but if he had been able to put up with the emotional abuse, he shouldn't have too much trouble with the idea that a person who he has no emotional feelings towards wanting to kill him. Lawliet simply didn't understand.

They walked in silence with Lawliet taking in the sights and sounds of Diagon Alley. It was a large place, very old, with a large crowd of men, women and children wearing robes of varying colors and shades. The shops looked interesting, but there were plenty of things that Lawliet was confused or amused by. The fact that Wizards and Witches really did ride on broomsticks was actually pretty funny. He wondered if some used a mortar and pestle like in the Russian stories.

He had taken the effort to read the books that Whammy found on Witches and Wizards, and had enjoyed them more than he remembered doing when he was younger.

This was and wasn't what he had expected from them.

Some of the children looking at the brooms looked around his age or older. It was probably that Quidditch sport again. Lawliet vaguely remembered a boy who had been completely obsessed with football at the orphanage.

"Jack...Jack Mason. Ten years old. Wanted to play professionally. Had a bad habit of trying to challenge the other boys to matches and getting beaten. Did not like milk," Lawliet muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" Professor McGonagall had turned to face him.

Lawliet blinked and chewed on his index finger. "I didn't say anything, Professor," he said, reaching into his pocket, taking out a lollipop and sticking it in his mouth.

* * *

The wand shop was dark and smelled like something musty. It wasn't a bad smell though. It wasn't filth or decay. Just age. And when you lived in places that were always sterilized, it was nice to smell something different once in a while.

Lawliet looked around, taking in the rows of thin boxes that were stacked on the shelves. He didn't turn around when he heard the sound of someone coming, and only at the sound of his name did he look towards the speakers.

"Mr. Olivander, this is Justin Wallace. Wallace, come over here please," This please was more or less an afterthought. McGonagall didn't like him.

Lawliet turned around to look at the old man who was calmly looking him over. He looked like he could have possibly been the original Olivander from whatever B.C. His face was ancient but what was intriguing about him were his amber eyes that seemed to be looking right through him.

Lawliet stared at him for quite a while, and Olivander stared at him. It was Olivander who at last broke the staring contest.

"Well, Mr. Wallace, it's good to meet you. I don't recall your coming here for a wand, so you must be a first time customer. I assume something happened to your last wand," Olivander said.

Lawliet was going to say that that was the case before McGonagall got there first.

"No, Justin's a different case, if you know what I mean. This is his first wand," she said.

"Well," Olivander said, his eyebrows rising quite a bit, "Then this should be very interesting. My wands are made of the finest wood with the best cores from unicorns, dragons and phoenixes that I can find."

"How?" Lawliet asked, leaning forwards.

Olivander smiled, "That, dear boy, is a trade secret."

Lawliet blinked and nodded slowly, "I see,"

"Would you be so kind as to give me your wand arm," Olivander said, looking at him expectantly.

Lawliet assumed that he was asking which hand he would be using, and held out his right, and instantly a stick was placed in his hand.

"Yew and dragon heartstring, a very powerful combination. Give it a wave,"

Lawliet waved it around, and almost instantly it was switched with another.

"Holly and unicorn hair, very good for protective spells," Olivander seemed to be getting more and more happy with every wand that was discarded.

Lawliet wasn't sure just how long until Olivander disappeared into the shop for a minute and came out with an ancient looking box.

"This was left by my predecessor. It's the only one of his that never sold. Every so often I try to see if it's willing to choose someone, and you're an especially tough costumer. I haven't seen one like you since Mr. Potter a few years ago," Olivander sounded thrilled "Monkey puzzle wood with thestral hair."

Lawliet noticed that he didn't say anything about the properties. Maybe because it was something that someone else had made, and wandmakers didn't even share that information with other wandmakers. That did make sense in a way, but it made him want to know as much as he could about wands. They seemed to be the main focus of power. Maybe there was something in making them that caused the phenomena. Maybe it wasn't even magic at all.

The moment that Lawliet touched the wand, he felt a warmth from it, and when he waved it, red and silver sparks shot out of it.

The lollipop that he had been sucking on fell out of his mouth.

* * *

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry turned around to see both Ron and Hermione sitting in one of the benches of the ice cream parlor and walked quickly over the see them.

Ron had been in Egypt over the summer, visiting the tombs and seeing all the curses that the Ancient Egyptian Wizards had placed on the pyramids. He had found time to get him a pocket sneakoscope, which was in his trunk in his room. It looked like Egypt had agreed with him. He looked even more freckled than before and was grinning as he waved.

Hermione had been in France with her family, who Harry didn't know that much about, aside from being dentists. Her bushy hair was a little longer from the last time that he'd seen her, and she looked like she had tanned a little herself.

It was wonderful to see both of them.

"We were looking all over for you!" Hermione said breathlessly, "We checked the Leaky Cauldron, but they said that you'd already left, and then we looked at Flourish and Blots and the Apothecary and..."

"I bought my school things ages ago," Harry said, shaking his head, "And how did you know that I was here?"

"Dad," Ron said with a shrug.

That was right. Harry should have remembered. Mr. Weasley worked for the Ministry, so he would have known that Harry had blown up Aunt Marge and come here.

"Harry, that was really, really dangerous," Hermione said, crossing her arms, "You're lucky you weren't expelled."

"I think I'm lucky that I wasn't arrested," Harry muttered, "Last time, when Dobby smashed that pudding, they said if something like that happened again, I'd be kicked out. I think that blowing my aunt up was a little worse than a smashed pudding."

"Well, it is you," Ron said with a shrug, "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I don't want to think about what they'd do to me if I blew up my aunt. Probably wouldn't matter though. Mum would have killed me by the time they got to me..."

Harry didn't bother to mention that they hadn't seemed to care much the last time. Ron might have a point though. Maybe the person who had given the note had supported Voldemort... Ron's dad had said there were a lot of supporters still running around, like Lucius Malfoy... If Harry couldn't practice magic anymore, they would probably feel like it was some kind of justice.

"We just got finished getting our school things too," Hermione said, looking like she was trying to change the subject to something that didn't upset her and kind of amuse Ron.

"Have you seen hers?" Ron jerked his thumb over to the three bulging bags besides her, "I don't think she wants to sleep this year."

"I'm just taking a few more classes then you, that's all," Hermione huffed, "I'm perfectly able to handle some more classes. I want to see everything that Hogwarts can offer!"

Hermione's over enthusiasm was starting to make Harry tired just looking at her. What was worse was that he knew perfectly well that Hermione would want to talk to them about what she'd learned or would get annoyed if they fudged things on their papers.

"My parents said that I could get myself a birthday present though, so there is one last place to look around," Hermione said.

"How about a nice...book?" Ron asked innocently.

Hermione was completely unfazed.

"No, I really want a pet. Probably an owl. You guys both have owls, and I'd like to be able to talk to my parents more," Hermione said, looking over at one of the many magical pet stores that littered Diagon Alley.

"I don't have an owl!" Ron said, "All you've seen is the family owl! All I've got is Scabbers, and it doesn't look like Egypt agreed with him..."

Ron pulled the rat out of his pocket, and Harry could see Ron's point. He wasn't anywhere near as fat as he had been the last time that Harry had seen him, and he could see the lose skin around his body. Scabbers' eyes were looking decidedly cloudy as well, and Harry didn't want to put into words the first thing that came to mind when he looked at him.

"But you can still talk to your family easily," Hermione pursued.

"The pet store closer to Knockturn Alley has more owls in it," Harry said before Ron and Hermione could begin bickering too much. He was starting to know Diagon Alley pretty well by this time, and led the way into the small, dark shop that he had pointed out.

It was cool inside, but very noisy. The shop was jammed with cages, and the inhabitants of all the cages were squawking, whining, meowing, hissing, croaking and chirping to one another and to the newcomers into the shop. The witch behind the counter was busy talking with a wizard about the care of poisonous newts, and Harry followed Hermione as she wandered over to the part of the shop where there were several owls, all of them looking unhappy, while Ron when over to talk to the witch about Scabbers and if there was a medicine for him.

As they walked, Hermione bumped into someone about their age who was in the same area.

"Excuse me," Hermione mumbled.

The person in question turned around and stared at her as if she was a talking two headed elephant. Harry recognized the large black eyes with the circles around them.

It was that Justin guy that he had met earlier.

"Harry," Justin said, turning to stare at him when Hermione took a step back in surprise.

"Oh, hello again," Harry said, trying to sound natural, "Are you here for an owl?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall said that they are the main means of communication in this world," Justin said, looking over at the birds.

"Wait...are you...an exchange student?" Hermione stepped forwards again, the original uneasiness fading, "That's really, really rare! Where did you come from? Durmstrang? The Black Academy in Italy?"

"I only learned about the Wizarding World a few days ago," Justin said.

Hermione's interest was even greater now, if it was possible. Her eyes got wider, and she seemed to be dancing from foot to foot as she thought about this information.

"Really? I'd read about that! It almost never happens!" Hermione said, looking a little past Justin. She was probably trying to remember what book she had read it in.

They were interrupted by the sound of Ron's surprised and pain filled scream. Harry and Hermione ran over to the counter to see him looking at a large ginger cat with a look of surprise and anger as he cradled Scabbers closely to him.

"No, Crookshanks!" the witch cried and reached out for the cat. She only managed a brief hold of its bottlebrush tail, and it was gone.

"Crookshanks..." the witch sighed, "You'll be the death of this shop...I'm never supplying part kneazels again..."

"Kneazel?" Hermione asked, looking curious, "They look like cats don't they? I read in _Magical Pets and Companions_ that they were very loyal and intelligent!"

"Yes, but they don't do well in pet shops," the witch said, but then stopped and changed tone, "however, he's a lovely creature and very affectionate. He's been here for ages though; I just don't know what I'm going to have to do with him..."

"But I thought you wanted an owl?" Harry said. He didn't want Hermione to end up buying something she didn't want just because the witch was going to make her feel sorry for him.

"But if he's been here for so long..."

"That thing nearly _scalped_ me!" Ron said indignantly, "Don't tell me you're thinking of buying that monster!"

Hermione looked at Ron and huffed a little.

"Just because he's does something that he thinks is perfectly good and natural doesn't mean he's a monster. Hedwig would probably eat Scabbers too if she ever had the chance, and so would Errol or Hermes!"

And with that, Hermione started looking through the shop for Crookshanks, who cautiously came out from under a shelf and sniffed at her.

"I'm out," Ron said, "I don't want poor Scabbers to get eating be something else in here...besides, I got a bottle of Rat Tonic that she said might help him since he's getting older."

He slid out the door and Harry was torn between following him and waiting for Hermione to get her cat. His decision was made for him when Hermione came up, gave him a bag of cat food and asked him to wait in line while she coaxed Crookshanks out from under the shelf where he had gone back.

Harry sighed and took his place, which was, apparently, right behind Justin. Justin had found an owl. Only, it was probably the biggest, most evil looking bird that he had ever seen. It was huge, having to grab both of Justin's shoulders just to stay on, and while its jet black plumage was nice enough looking, when it turned its head to look over at him, Harry noticed that it had crimson eyes. The owl blinked at him disdainfully and looked away.

"You're getting that one?" Harry said, unsure what to say in advice.

"Hm?" Justin turned a little bit, moving carefully so that he could maintain his slouch and the owl didn't dig into his shoulder with its claws, "I suppose."

"You...suppose?"

"Well, since the wands chose their respective owners, don't pets? The cat that your friend is trying to get seems to like her, in the way that I've seen many cats like their owners. This owl landed on me and kept trying to bite me when I moved him. I suppose that that means that I have to buy him," Justin said, taking a chocolate bar out of this pocket and taking a large bite out of it, showing a lot of teeth.

While that was logical, it didn't really make sense. Just because the owl decided that he looked more comfortable perch then the wooden one he had been on, didn't mean that it was some kind of 'bonding ritual'.

"I..." Harry didn't know what to say.

For a moment, they just stared at one another, and then Justin started to dig through his pockets again and pulled out another chocolate bar.

"You've been staring at me since I started eating," he said, "You must want one."

He held out the thing to Harry, who hesitantly took it. Justin turned back slowly, and shuffled up to the witch behind the counter just as Hermione came back with Crookshanks.

"I finally got him," she said smiling as she held the limp cat between her arms a little tighter, "He's gorgeous isn't he?"

It depended on if one was judging his fur or his face. He looked like he had run into a wall, other than that; Harry supposed that he could agree with her.

Ron was waiting for them impatiently when they left. He glowered at Crookshanks, but didn't say anything until they were a little ways from the shop.

"So how are your parents going to react to your having a cat?" he said at last.

"I don't expect that they'll mind much. He'll be at school most of the time anyways," Hermione said with a shrug.

"What!" Ron turned, his face red, "I thought that you were going to keep him home. What about Scabbers!"

"What about Scabbers?" Hermione looked genuinely confused, "Crookshanks will be in my rooms. Not yours. If you're worried about him, don't allow him into your room."

"You make it sound so easy,"

"It is easy. You're just making a bigger fuss over it."

"What happens when your cat eats him?"

"He won't eat him if you keep the door to the dorm closed!"

"What if Neville forgets to close it?"

"Then put a spell on the door!"

"What if the spell doesn't work?"

"You're so infuriating!"

Harry closed his eyes. For some reason, the sound of his friends bickering was actually welcome after the long silence at the Dursleys. It was funny. He never realized just how much he missed the Wizarding World until he was back. It was like he was home again.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was quiet other than Harry and the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley fussed and fretted over Harry while the twins did extremely accurate and extremely insulting imitations of their older brother, Percy, who was acting particularly smug about his new position as Head Boy. Ginny, the youngest Weasley, didn't talk to Harry, but she did look at him a great deal, but when he looked back, she usually would blush and look away.

It looked like her crush on him was even worse now.

He smiled nervously at Ron's dark look and hoped that she would be over it soon.

"Terrible business," Arthur Weasley said with a sigh, "The Minister's pulled us off all of our regular jobs trying to catch Black. I wouldn't be surprised if they got old Mad-Eye out of retirement for this. He was his teacher you know."

Molly Weasley sent her husband a very dark look.

"Moody?" Fred and George both leaned over the table, "You mean that nutter-"

"Mad Eye Moody was one of the best Aurors of his day," Mr. Weasley said with deep dignity, "Most of Azkaban is full because of him."

Harry listened with great interest. He wanted to ask what an Auror was, but he also didn't want to sound stupid or interrupt. Besides, it sounded like they were Wizard policemen. He knew that Azkaban was the Wizard prison, and they everyone was positively terrified of the Azkaban guards, whoever they were, but he hadn't ever heard all that much about who caught dark Wizards.

"He's still a nutter," Fred muttered.

"Completely irresponsible," Percy agreed, "There's always some kind of report about him attacking someone or something for an alleged attack."

"On second thought, I love Moody," Fred said.

"Me too," George nodded.

"You two," Mrs Weasley did not look amused, "Just to disagree with Percy!"

Percy gave his mother a long suffering look, "Well, at any rate, _I_ am going to bed. It's far past bed time, and we have school tomorrow."

"You're right, Percy," Mrs Weasley nodded approvingly, "Everyone, it's time for bed! Off you go,"

It was hard to object that you weren't really tired as you were being shoved off to bed by the woman. As Harry looked around for an excuse he noticed for the first time that they weren't alone in the pub. Justin Wallace was sitting in a crouch with his knees drawn up to him at a table in the far end of the pub, watching the family. His eyes were completely and totally empty.

Harry suppressed a slight shudder that went up his spine. Well, there was one thing about Justin that he could say with total optimism.

He was too obvious to be an enemy.

* * *

The Weasley family was an interesting group of watch.

Lawliet liked to watch families. They were complex with plenty of petty problems that could easily become huge divisions.

For instance, the oldest boy in the group treated his siblings with barely concealed arrogance. He truly saw himself as smarter, more talented, and better than them just because he was clever enough to flatter the right people and report other's misdemeanors when it suited him. He would probably rise in government, but only so much. His type usually remained someone's subordinate, but at the same time, he would isolate his family and had a chance (Lawliet wasn't sure what percent yet) of choosing his ambition over any kind of loyalties to them.

They were also too poor to have afforded a dinner at a pub that Professor McGonagall had called an icon of Wizard culture. While this spoke very badly about Wizard culture, it also said that the pub's prices were positively ridiculous. Someone whose clothes were so obviously second hand and repaired shouldn't have been able to afford this.

So someone was funding this little trip.

Probably the Minister Fudge. The Weasleys were very close to Harry, from what he had been told, so their coming to get him was natural. Harry had a bad habit of not noticing inconsistencies with other people, so it would be, and had been, a complete success. The report had so far been very accurate about Harry Potter.

But what was silly was that, from the report, he had already dealt with two attempts on his life since his going to his school. Why wouldn't they have thought that he could bear having someone else after him?

Well, that wasn't his concern.

If Black had been smart enough to have escaped from Azkaban, he was smart enough to get to Hogwarts. Therefore the best place to catch Black was to trail the target. It was crude, and Harry Potter's death was a possibility, but it was the most effective thing that he could manage without the help that he was used to mobilizing.

He hadn't done things this way since the Bombings.

Now that the Weasleys were gone, Lawliet was able to pick at his chocolate cake and think about what he actually had to go on.

Sirius Black, supporter of Voldemort, had been arrested on the first of November for the murder of thirteen people. One Wizard and twelve normal people, whom the Wizards termed 'Muggles'. Those twelve had not been named, but through Wammy, Lawliet had already gotten a copy of the newspaper for the event. It was called a gas explosion, and the authorities were maintained that it had not been caused by any neglect on their part. The pipes were new, there had been no leaks. The event that been classed under the ambiguous phrase 'Act of God' and forgotten by everyone but the families of the dead.

There had been no compensation paid at all, and there had been no mention in the Wizarding World of his connection to the deaths of James and Lily Potter.

He had no record of Black's trail, and it must have been a very quick one since he was sent to Azkaban the next day. The case was closed and everything was forgotten. Until of course Black managed to break out of a place that the Wizards had deemed impossible to break out of.

From what Lawliet understood, the place was like some kind of Wizard Alcatraz with some of supernatural creatures that secured the place. The fact that it had never had a break out before was impressive, and it made Lawliet feel a bit of excitement that the first case in this world was one that had this kind of puzzling nature to it.

The only problem was the lack of motive.

Lawliet took another large bite of cake and looked at the newspapers in front of him.

Killing Harry didn't seem like the best idea to him. If it were Lawliet, he would have tried to get out of the country. Was it simple insanity brought on by a fixation and guilt and the memory that Harry had caused the downfall of his life? Maybe.

Lawliet simply didn't understand people sometimes.

He wished he could get his hands of some older newspapers or anything and get more of a knowledge of Black's personality. Would he plot something our carefully? (Sixty-three percent, this seemed well thought out.) Jump into a situation before thinking? (Forty-seven percent.) Something between those two? (Seventy-one percent.)

Well, there was little more that he was going to find out this way. Hopefully he'd be able to find something in the school's library.

Lawliet carefully stacked up his papers just as the barman was starting to put out the many candles that lined the blackened walls of the little pub. He was staying there the night, apparently to grow a little more accustomed to the Wizarding World. At least Wammy didn't have to put up with the black owl that he had bought under the mistaken impression that all animals were like wands. Wammy didn't like animals all that much. Even though there was a seventy percent chance of their improving people's moods.

At least the owl, now named Nero, would not easily be intercepted.

He noticed Harry Potter walk down the stairs, apparently looking for something. Lawliet passed by him. There was nothing he wanted from Harry at the moment. He finished organizing his things, placed them in the bag he had brought, and started up the stairs with Harry, who obviously hadn't found what he was looking for, coming behind him.

Neither spoke as they walked up the stairs past on of the rooms where the lights were on and the door was open a crack.

"But you don't even know that Sirius Black is after Harry!" Molly Weasley's voice was extremely clear.

Both of them stopped.

"Molly," Her husband sounded frustrated, "I told you. The Ministry wanted to keep it secret, but when the guards were talked to, they said that he had been talking in his sleep. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts,'"

Lawliet watched as Harry's eyes widened, and he looked over to Lawliet in shock. Lawliet took another sucker out of his pocket.

"But..."

"Black is deranged, Molly," Arthur sighed, "He's been sitting for twelve years thinking about how Harry Potter ruined his life by defeating You-Know-Who. If you ask me, he thinks that killing Harry will bring You-Know-Who back into power. I'm going to tell him. He has a right to know."

Lawliet couldn't have agreed more.

"But he's just a child! The knowledge would terrify him!" Mrs. Weasley protested.

Lawliet noticed with some satisfaction that Harry looked mildly offended.

"You know how Harry and Ron are. They've already ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice, but they can't do that this year," Arthur was starting to sound annoyed, "Even recently. With this aunt business. I'm willing to bet that if the Knight Bus hadn't picked Harry up, he'd have been dead before the Ministry could find him."

"But the Azkaban guards will be there won't they," Mrs Weasley said.

"Yes." Arthur's tone changed to one of contained fear, "The Ministry wanted them to be in the school itself, but Dumbledore objected. They've compromised so that they'll be around the school."

"Why would Dumbledore object if they're there to protect the students? I know Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain, but it's always best to be sure."

Arthur sighed, "You've never seem them. You've never had to be with them. I once had to go out there...to Azkaban. I wasn't even in the prison itself. Just outside. I've never felt that way before... Besides, if Dumbledore's there, we shouldn't have to worry about Black."

"But they're working on our side," Mrs. Weasley pressed.

"No, they're just working on the side that tolerates and feeds them, but at times like this, I'm willing to ally myself with something that I'd rather avoid."

"If they save Harry..."

"Then I'll never say another word against them,"

"Oh, the door's open,"

Lawliet moved with a speed the probably surprised Harry and pulled him out of the line of vision of that crack. There was a click and the door was closed. The voices continued, but Lawliet brushed himself off and held out a lime sucker to Harry.

"When I get a shock it sometimes helps to have candy," he said. Lawliet was lying, but it would be something to distract Potter from wanting to know why he didn't look surprised. He had been ordered not to tell Harry anything, and, while annoying, would be less troublesome than Potter knowing who _he_ was.

Harry was quiet for a minute and then took the candy.

"Just as a question, how big are your pockets?" He asked.

"Hm?" Lawliet said.

"Well...I've seen you pull out two chocolate bars and three suckers. How do you keep those in there?" Harry asked, sounding like he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Lawliet stared down at his pockets.

"...I don't know..." He said after a moment, "By all logic it should be impossible."

Both them stared at each other.

"Maybe it's...unintentional magic?" Harry said, but it sounded like a question.

"I had never really thought about it," It was possible that he had been using magic for his entire life without realizing it, "This is vaguely disturbing."

Without saying anything else, Lawliet turned away and walked down the hall, past the snickering twins who had obviously stolen whatever it was that the person inside the room they were listening to was searching for and into his own small room.

Were his cases a product of magic too? No. Lawliet refused to believe it. He solved cases due to his own intelligence, not to some strange supernatural gift that broke all the rules. He did not cheat. He just controlled the situation so that it turned out the way he wanted it to. There was nothing even remotely magical in that.

Lawliet promised himself that he would get back to normal cases as soon as this was done and never have anything to do with this world again.

* * *

So that was the big secret. That was the reason why everything had happened that way. When the Knight Bus had dropped him off, the Minister himself had come to make sure that Harry was absolutely safe. He hadn't punished Harry because they were relieved that he was alive, and they might have even thought that Black was controlling him or something.

Then he had made Harry promise not to leave Diagon Alley. Not to leave a safe, public place where there were several people there to watch him. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if some of the people who he had seen staring at him had been actually told by the Minister to keep an eye on him.

And now, only he and Justin knew.

Harry lay on his bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, trying to see what to do with himself and this situation. He had to tell Ron and Hermione. Even though he knew that they'd panic, but really...how could Black be any worse than Voldemort?

It was strange, but he actually felt calmer about the whole thing now that he knew what was going on. The worst thing had been the uncertainty of the whole thing. Now that he knew what was happening around him, he was able to think about it.

It was upsetting, and Harry was worried, but remembering last year in the Chamber of Secrets reminded him of just how lucky he was to be alive easily. He'd really have to do his best to keep his head down.

The problem was that he didn't need to look for trouble. Trouble usually found him.

Harry turned over, listening to the sound of Percy tearing about his and Ron's room. It looked like Fred and George were still snickering outside with their 'Bighead Boy' badge, waiting for things to settle down, or Percy to give up.

It looked like it was going to be another interesting year. Harry had been hoping for boring.

* * *

The trip from Diagon Alley to Kings Cross passed in something of a blur. There were bags to be packed, Percy's picture of his girlfriend to be found, and pets to be taken care of. Crookshanks refused to be put in the carrier that Hermione had just got him, and she had to peel the cat off of her. Scabbers had to be found, sleeping in Ron's bed. Harry's copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ was found lurking under his bed and while Harry wasn't sure if it was really alive, he supposed that it was a very cheap pet.

There was no sign of Justin in the place. Harry wished that he could find him simply to ask him to please not tell anyone about this. While he didn't like the truth being kept from him, he really didn't want everyone and their brother trying to help him either.

The Ministry had apparently provided them Company cars to travel in, and while Fred and George were taking great delight in telling Percy that the reason was him (and they would have little flags on the hoods with HB in them for Humongous Bighead) Harry was pretty sure that the reason was him. A lot of things made more sense that way.

The problem with the company cars was, although they seemed to be able to fit into very small gaps, they were basically ordinary cars. That was good for blending in with the Muggles, but it was making them late.

When they finally pulled into the station, they had about five minutes to get on the train.

"Let's go together," Mr. Weasley said, pulling his cart close to Harry, "It'll be faster."

Harry had a suspicion of another reason, but he nodded and the two took off at the run.

The Platform 9 ¾ could only be reached if you were a Wizard or Witch and if you walked through the barrier between Platform 9 and Platform 10. Muggles couldn't get in, which was a good thing. There were plenty of Wizard families who apparated there.

Harry didn't feel anything as he ran through the barrier. All that happened was that one moment he was looking at a solid wall, and the next he was looking at the platform.

The Hogwarts Express, an ancient steam engine with red and gold colors painted along it, billowed smoke as Harry made his way through the sea of robes and cloaks with Mr. Weasley.

"Harry, would you wait for a moment before you get on?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking rather uneasy.

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley's voice called over the crowd, "Arthur what are you doing?"

"I'm not supposed to be talking about this," Mr. Weasley said, "I you need to know..."

"It's alright," Harry said quickly, "I know."

"You know? How could you know?" Mr. Weasley blinked.

"I..er...overheard you and Mrs. Weasley talking about it," Harry admitted, looking down, "But this way...you didn't really tell me, so...you didn't do anything that the Ministry won't want right?"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded over the train whistle, "The train! Arthur!"

"Harry, you must be very scared..." Mr. Weasley started.

"No, I'm not," Harry said, and then quickly added when he saw Mr. Weasley's disbelieving look, "Really! I mean, he can't be any worse than Voldemort right?"

Mr. Weasley winced, "Harry you have to promise me..."

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley shouted as the whistle blew again.

"You have to promise me...not to go looking for Black,"

Harry blinked a few times in total surprise.

"What?" Harry said in faint surprise.

"Arthur!"

"Promise me!"

"I-I promise," Harry said the moment that the train started to move and Harry had to run after it.

Ron and Hermione had both been waiting for him, and they grabbed his hand and helped him up just as the train was starting to pick up speed. The three of them fell together in a heap, and Harry gave a sigh of relief. He didn't want to repeat last year's flying car adventure.

There was a yowl from Hermione's bags, and Crookshanks, who's cage had apparently gotten lose, jumped out, made a flying leap at Ron, or more specifically, Ron's pocket where Scabbers was.

With a strange squeaking squeal, the rat managed to get out of the pocket, bite Ron, who had tried to grab him, and make a dash down the corridor with Crookshanks in hot pursuit.

"Scabbers!" Ron yelled, dashing after him, his hand bleeding a little bit.

Harry managed to untangle himself from Hermione and ran after Ron.

It didn't look like a promising year.

* * *

Cornelius Fudge might not have looked like it, but he was an able politician.

He had been able to win the election against extremely charismatic men from extremely powerful families, even though he was not a member of one of the seven Ancient and Most Noble Houses. He had managed to keep Britain under control the last year that Voldemort had been on the loose, and he was carefully maintaining Britain's isolation against an increasingly aggressive world.

Isolation was necessary. After all, if the world found out about them, they would be flooded for Muggles who would want a magical way out of their stupid problems. As if they didn't have enough of their own. Muggles were best left alone. They didn't understand anything anyways.

That was why he was there.

"I still object to your allowing this detector to have any privileges at all," Fudge said to the Hogwarts Headmaster. While Dumbledore was undoubtedly a powerful Wizard and a respected man, he didn't have the right to go making exceptions to laws where he wanted to, "He's a student and should be treated as such. You should go back and Obliviate that Quilish person."

Albus sighed, "Quilish is an old friend of mine. I could never forgive myself if I did such a thing. And his requests are not particularly hard to fulfill. He simply wants L to be able to work on his job."

"That was a child. Are you telling me that Muggle put their children into slave labor?" Cornelius asked.

Barbarians.

"Quilish has told me the reasons," Albus said, "It's an amazing story. If you ever have time, I suggest that you speak to him."

He was avoiding the problem again. Just as he avoided the problem of the Dementors. Cornelius knew that Dumbledore was against them. Everyone knew that he wanted Azkaban cleared of them, but it just wasn't practical. They were the best security that money could buy, and they were cheap.

Well, Dumbledore might not be moving an inch on the detector, but maybe he could use that to his advantage...

"Dumbledore, the Azkaban guards are more than willing to protect the school," he started again, "I think that the fact that he managed to escape them really upset them somehow. There are wards. Ways to keep the...side effects...from harming the children."

Dumbledore was quiet and then he shook his head, "I can't allow them to be here in good conscience," he said, "It is not in their nature to be in a place with so many children without desiring to feed. Also, many children have heard terrible stories about them. It will cause more fear than anything else would."

"Hem hem," A soft, high pitched voice coughed.

Cornelius turned to his companion, who smiled at him in a reassuring way.

"I know that you have always disliked the Azkaban Guards, despite the Ministry's constant reassurance that you are all completely safe, but you should think headmaster, that the Ministry could object a great deal more to your suddenly enrolling a student who has had no training into third year," she reminded Dumbledore gently, "Such a thing has never been heard of before. Surely you could be a more amiable... We have the best interests of the children at heart just as you do. We all know that it is completely unlikely that the Ministry could fail to catch Sirius Black before he was anywhere close to Hogwarts, but the parents of children must be appeased."

Dolores was one of the best people that Cornelius had under him. She was clever, had a way of winning arguments through a mix of flattery, intimidation and condescension that left most opponents unsure of just how to react. Now she was smiling sweetly at Dumbledore.

"I suggest that if you are not willing to allow the Dementors to do their job properly, the least you can do is allow someone from the Ministry to be allowed to at least see what is being done to keep the students safe. Hogwarts does not have a good record of late...with the incident with the Chamber of Secrets and the Philosopher's stone...both completely understandable of course, but now you've chosen a rather...questionable...individual as a member of a staff..." she pressed. "Of course, those silly rumors about the position being cursed make things difficult, but, with everything that's happened...maybe a Ministry official should at least be present to make sure that there is absolutely no threat to the children."

* * *

**Omake: Freedom**

Bertha the Pet shop owner couldn't have been happier. The kneazel mix that had chased more people out of the shop than she could remember and the evil owl that Bertha was sure had been a Dark Lord in his past life were both gone. In one day!

She smiled happily as she unlocked the door to the shop. She would sell more animals than she ever had before that day. Maybe she'd even clean up a little bit!

As she walked into the shop, she was greeted by all the animals in the cages and by a small box in the center of the room with several holes in it. Bertha assumed that this was that new rare pet that she seen advertised in a small magazine that she used to get things. Sometimes it was a little mysterious and offered some animals in less than perfect condition, but it had the best prices anywhere. It was strange that Phil hadn't stayed around to talk with her.

Bertha happily opened the box, ignoring the loud growling noises. Maybe it was another winged cat. Those had sold like hotcakes. Even if they had been molting a little.

As she opened box, out jumped a pitch black, red eyed cat like animal with tails that hissed at her, tried to take out one of her eyes, and then darted under the shelf that Crookshanks had so adored. In shock, Bertha looked at the inside of the box, which had showed signs of the animals attempts at escape. There, on the soiled, filthy looking bottom, was a small note.

_Thank you for your purchase of this lovely, full blooded nekomata. You shall soon find it drinking lamp oil and speaking to you in at least three languages. Note: effects of possession, devouring of humans, and any other ill effects of owning this nekomata are not our responsibility._

Bertha cried.

* * *

_Well, this cot done faster than I had hoped. As you can see, I'm messing with canon, but it would be a kind of boring story if I didn't. You guys don't want to see POA with a few different scenes do you? _

_Thanks for reading!_

_Additional Notes:_

_Mortar and Pestle: In Russian folklore, the Baba Yaga used a mortar and pestle, which are usually used to grind things into powder, to fly. She also had a house with chicken legs that moved around, so if I ever mention that, you'll know where it came from._

_McGonagall: I don't see her as the kind to have much patience with L and his views of the world. Not that I dislike her or anything. She just doesn't agree with him, and sees him as too Slytherin in his ways of handling situations. I'm not going to abuse her in this story. I don't go into the idea that if you don't like my main character you're evil, so don't worry._

_Thestral Hair: I've been looking around Rowling's site lately, and she mentioned that thestral hair could only be used by someone who was willing to deal with and face death. I kind of felt that off all things that made up wands, that suited L best. I really don't like giving people 'special' wands. I feel like I'm acting like some crack author who has to make her main character 'speshul', but I just couldn't see anything else working for L as far as his personality went. I did try to even things out with the monkey puzzle tree, which is a South American tree that's as ugly as sin and named that because monkeys have trouble climbing it. It doesn't have many good things attributed to it from what little I read._

_The Black Academy: A place in Italy where people believed that Wizards were taught in the middle ages. It was believed that all of their needs were cared for, but the last person to leave the classroom as a fully trained wizard (the gender neutral term for an advanced spell user as opposed to witch, which was just as gender neutral for untrained magic users) would be devoured. _

_Everyone's reactions to L: I'm trying to make things pretty natural for how people would react to a character like him. I don't want to have everyone just become friends for no reason just because L and Harry are my main characters. Harry wasn't really that close with that many people other than Ron and Hermione, and I want to stay true to that character, so this friendship will be one that slowly develops over the course of the story._

_The owl: In a lot of fanfiction, Harry or the other main character gets a spiffy pet that can talk to him, shapeshift, is soulbound to him, or is just generally cool. I kind of wrote this as a joke off of those. Poor L. Nero just decided that he was a good perch, and he thought it had 'chosen him'. I remember reading somewhere that some owls do get red eyes, but I don't remember where..._

_Dumbledore: I just love him as a kind of ambiguous figure. A lot of people write him as the evil manipulative old man who's going to kill Harry at some time for the power, and others have him as good incarnate. I dislike both views. My Dumbledore shall be unveiled throughout the story, but I'll give you this warning: I have a much harsher view of him than canon had._

_Thank you and please review._

_Pryotra._


	3. Author's Announcement

_Everyone, last Friday, my mom broke her leg while walking the dog on the trail close to our house. Since my dad has to work, and my sister is married with a child, I'm the only one who can take care of her and do the various things that the house needs done. I originally thought that I would have time to update, but I don't think that it looks like I do. I'm really sorry, but I'm probably not going to be updating until at least August._

_As all of you who have stuck with me know, this is not a notice of abandonment. I will, as I always have, resume this story. _

_Thanks again for all the support that you've shown me and for your patience with me. _

_I'll update as soon as I am able._

_Pryotra_


	4. The Dementor

_Author's Corner: Well, this is getting surprisingly popular. I'm glad it's gotten such a good reception for one of the less original ideas I've had to work with. Thanks for all your patience with me and my sudden break. I'm glad to be back with you guys!_

_I have to say though, one of the best parts of writing this is trying to work on L's point of view. He's odd, since he sees all the darkest aspects of everything. I like learning to write from character's point of view, because I kind of think that one of the most important things in a book or any kind of story is how well the characters are done. I kind of feel that a story with a plot that's only so interesting can be completely changed with good characters._

I've been looking at a lot of HP fanfiction lately, mostly trying not to fall into the storm of fanfiction cliches that I'll have to avoid, so you might find me making fun of some of the fanon as well as making shout outs to other books and movies and anime. Much like my pet thing. I'm kind of surprised that Nero got so much love. You're probably not going to be seeing a lot of him, after all, you didn't see a lot of Hedwig did you?

_Disclaimer: Pryotra owns neither Death Note nor Harry Potter. Evidence of this lies in much of the plot of both stories. This is simply the result of her lack of good judgment._

_Thanks to Ibby-kun for his hard work as my Beta._

_**What do I know of man's destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.  
-Samuel Beckett **_

* * *

Dumbledore had no idea that part of the reason that the Dementors weren't running around Hogwarts as if it was the next Azkaban was Lucius Malfoy, so it was with some pride that he had dropped off his son, and apparated back to the manor. Poor Narcissa never seemed to be able to come to the station without nearly breaking down, so she had said her tearful goodbyes before Lucius and Draco had left.

Lucius never complained. Actually, it was pleasant to sometimes get some time to himself to reflect, consider what moves to make politically, and perhaps even take a trip to Diagon Alley for something to surprise his wife and take her mind off of not being able to see Draco again until Christmas.

Perhaps that dwarf crafted silver necklace that he had seen her looking at a week ago...no, he had better come home quickly. He would buy the necklace tomorrow, when he was returning from the ministry. It would be an unexpected surprise for her.

Actually, the whole issue with the Dementors had been completely unnecessary.

Black might be completely homicidal by this time, but Lucius found it hard to believe that he was going to manage to slip past every single teacher in Hogwarts if the Dementors weren't there to catch him, even if Dumbledore was a near senile old fool. Also, Dementors were the wardens of Azkaban, and Lucius certainly didn't want Draco exposed to them.

He had only barely managed to avoid a personal knowledge of them himself twelve years ago when the Dark Lord had suddenly met his inglorious end at the hands of an infant.

The Dark Lord.

After the previous year, Lucius found himself questioning his own stance. Pragmatically, it had been a complete loss. Not only had he lost his place as one of the governors, but he had also lost a servant to the Potter brat. What was worse, some of his power in the Ministry had been lost to suspicion as well. That was only looking at the matter without emotion. Once he brought other things into the picture, the issue looked even worse.

All his plans had backfired, and it was all due to the nature of the diary.

Perhaps the Dark Lord had worried that something might happen to him when he faced the Potters, because he had given Lucius the diary shortly before attacking them, telling him that if he gave it to the then infant Draco when he went to school, it would cause the Chamber of Secrets to be opened. At first, Lucius had intended on doing just that, but he had hesitated during Draco's first year. What if Dumbledore noticed the correlation?

Then the raids had become common, with Arthur Weasley heading many of them, and Lucius had thought it best to give the diary up, but a new idea had reached him. What if he gave it to one of the Weasley children? Perhaps whatever was written in the diary (Lucius had been told to never open it, and when the Dark Lord gave an order, or even a caution, it was best to follow it) would show that child the error of their parents' ways. After all, the Dark Lord was extremely persuasive, and one of the younger children might actually be able to listen to reason without dismissing it purely from the prejudice brought on by ignorance. Also, if the girl was caught, it would be Arthur Weasley who was secretly working against the Mudbloods, not Lucius Malfoy. The girl would get a punishment, given her age, nothing more than a suspension or being taken to live with a decent family with the rest of her siblings, and Weasley would lose credit, even though nothing could be proved, and be considered an unfit parent (which he was). It was perfect.

Naturally, nothing had gone right.

He'd had no idea that the diary worked by possessing people and would kill its host. While Lucius had done plenty of things that he might not like to look back on, he hadn't killed children. That had been the LeStranges' and Grayback's particular hobby. Halfbloods and the children of Blood Traitors could be raised in proper families, and Mudbloods could be returned back to their little mud huts (or whatever they lived in) with their memories erased along with their families to do whatever it was that Muggles did. The thought of nearly killing a girl who wasn't even Draco's age wasn't a pleasant one. What was even more sickening was the knowledge that the Dark Lord had wanted him to give it to Draco.

Lucius appeared in the main hall of the manor, and entered the dining room, where he saw Narcissa, looking over some old photographs. She looked like she was wiping her eyes.

"Is there something the matter?" Lucius asked, walking up and looking down at the pictures, "Those are from before you started Hogwarts aren't they?"

Narcissa nodded, looking miserable, "I was just thinking...about Sirius. I saw him so much when I was a child...I never dreamed things would have happened the way they did."

"No one knew that he would turn Blood Traitor," Lucius said, "If he'd at least talked to us before he went back..."

Narcissa shook her head, "I've wondered for a while, Lucius. You didn't know Sirius like I did. He didn't betray people lightly."

"He betrayed his own family," Lucius pointed out, "It wouldn't have been that hard for him."

Narcissa sighed, "Sometimes I wonder if we didn't betray him first."

Lucius was honestly confused. Black had been the heir, his family would have given him anything. What did he have to feel betrayed about? Narcissa must have seen his face because she smiled, stacked up the photos neatly and shook her head.

"Sometimes I wonder about everything...how is the ministry? You managed to keep Draco away from the Dementors...you still have influence?"

Lucius sighed, "Our reputation isn't very good at the moment. I accidentally found myself aiding Dumbledore, but that might not happen next time. I've told Draco to keep his head down, but I don't think he will. He blames the Potter boy for our disgrace and wants some kind of revenge."

"Had he not found us out-" Narcissa, as usual, jumped to Draco's defense.

Lucius nodded and sat down, not sure of the answer that he really wanted to give her. How could he tell her the there were two people he blamed for this situation: the Dark Lord for given him the diary and himself for following orders, assuming that the Dark Lord made any distinction between ally and enemy?

* * *

Even when joined by Ginny, it took them almost fifteen minutes, going from compartment to compartment to find Scabbers, who had somehow managed to find Neville Longbottom and get into his luggage. Along the way, Ginny had found some friends in her year and had managed to sit with them, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione one their own.

Harry was slightly relieved. Since the events of the previous year, she had been dropping things and blushing almost worse than the year before that. It really made him nervous. It had been bad enough when it was just because he was 'the famous Harry Potter', but now that he had actually saved her, it seemed that now Ginny had something to really have a crush on him for.

Once found, Scabbers had been relegated back into Ron's pocket and Crookshanks (who had been much easier to find) had been put back in his carrier.

"We better see if there's anywhere for us to sit," Harry sighed.

It looked like they were going to be sharing a compartment. Just when he wanted to tell them about everything that he had overheard and what Mr. Weasley had told him.

"We should try down the train more," Hermione suggested, "Those spots never seem to fill up as fast, and we weren't down there. There might be room for us."

"As long as we don't end up sharing a compartment with Malfoy or the other Slytherins," Ron muttered darkly.

Harry hadn't seen Draco Malfoy at all in their hunt for Scabbers, so Ron had a good point. He would rather split up and sit with a bunch of complete strangers who did nothing other than stare at his scar than have to endure the Slytherins for company.

Hermione didn't say anything, but she nodded her assent. She got the harshest treatment from the Slytherins out of all three of them. At least Harry and Ron had a Witch and a Wizard for parents. According to them, she shouldn't have even been allowed at Hogwarts.

"Before we have to worry about that, let's see if we can find an empty compartment. There's something that I really want to talk to you guys about alone," Harry said, "If we can't find somewhere, I guess it can wait, but..."

Harry let the statement trail off as he looked into another window to see it filled up. He knew that Ron and Hermione were exchanging worried looks. After all, the only times that he had ever asked them to talk alone was when something was happening. The last time had been when they had been trying to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was last year.

Harry looked in the window of what looked like the compartment at the very back of the train to see...two forms. One looked like it was an adult who was wrapped up in a traveling cloak, and the other looked like it was about his age and was sitting in an uncomfortable looking crouch, eating something.

Hopefully, it was Justin and the other figure was asleep. He could ask Justin not to tell anyone, and ignore the other person. Probably a seventh year or something.

The only adult that he'd ever seen on the train had to have been the snack witch.

Harry indicated the door.

"It only has two people in it," he said.

"But what about..." Hermione trailed off.

"I think one of them's asleep, and if the other is who I think it is, then I wanted to talk to him about the same thing."

Hermione and Ron exchanged another confused look but followed Harry into the compartment.

"Who's that!" Ron said in surprise as he looked at the form of the sleeping man. Harry could only make out some brown hair that was starting to turn gray despite seemingly young features.

"Professor R.J. Lupin," Hermione said.

Ron stared at her.

"You really are a genius," he said.

"It's on his suitcase, Ron," Hermione sighed, pointing up at the suitcase that was above the sleeping man.

"So...what's he teach," Ron asked.

"How am I supposed to know!" Hermione started, "but I'd assume-"

"Defense against the Dark Arts," a new voice cut in. "I believe that that's what he called it."

Harry looked at Justin for the first time and blinked. For some reason he was sitting on the edge of the seat of the compartment like some kind of deformed vulture, reading something that looked a lot like _Hogwarts: A History_, but that wasn't the strange thing about him. He too had a copy of the _Monster Book of Monsters,_ and it was chewing on his head. Instead of being unhappy about it like a normal human being, Justin didn't even seem to notice it. Then there was the way he was holding the other book. He was holding it with just the thumb and forefinger as if the thing would suddenly attack him if he held it normally. Next to him was the evil owl, glaring at all of them as if they had intruded on its personal territory.

"Er...what's with the book?" Ron asked.

Justin seemed to actually look at Ron for the first time, and gave him that wide-eyed almost shocked expression that he had. Ron started to look like he was regretting even starting a conversation.

"It doesn't hurt," Justin said after a moment.

"What?" Ron asked.

"The book. It doesn't hurt, and it allows me to look at it when I need to this way. I assume that whoever used these was attempting to show the students that these things are not dangerous. However the creatures described in this book seem to show otherwise. If they are real." Justin said, his voice never breaking monotone.

Ron blinked a few times, opened his mouth, shut it, and sat down on the opposite side of the compartment, close to Harry but as far away from Justin as possible.

"This is Justin...Wallace wasn't it?" Harry said. Justin turned his unblinking gaze to him and nodded slowly, "I met him right before I saw you guys yesterday. You've met Hermione, and this is Ron."

Justin stared at both of them.

Ron looked like he would have loved to whisper something to Harry but didn't trust himself not to say anything too loud or to giggle.

Professor Lupin rolled over and let out some kind of sleeping noise.

Harry stiffened, but when he didn't do anything else, he relaxed his breath. The last thing that he wanted right then was for him to have to talk to the Professor, who looked like one decent hex sent by a first year would finish him off.

"Alright, I guess I can tell you about it," Harry said with a dubious look at the sleeping Professor.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, glancing at Justin.

"Yes, Justin here overheard everything, and I wanted to ask him not to talk to the other students about it anyways."

Justin finally blinked at Harry, but made the action seem slower than necessary. Was there anything that Justin did that didn't seem somehow creepy?

"Ok," Ron said slowly, "What's going on?"

"Alright, when you asked me to go down and see if I could find Scabbers' rat tonic, I had to go down into the bar, right? Well, after I found it, I had to go past your parents' room, and the door was open a little bit. Your mom and dad were talking about something. I couldn't help but overhear... They were saying that the Ministry thinks that Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban...to kill me," Harry said the last bit very reluctantly as he waited for the reaction.

Ron was staring at him with his mouth open while Hermione had her hands over her mouth. Both of them looked a whole lot more terrified by the news than even Harry had thought they would be, and that was saying something.

"They really said that, Harry?" Hermione asked, "This is so dangerous. We have to be really careful then. You can't go looking for trouble this year."

"Well, hopefully, this won't cause any trouble with your going to Hogsmead right?" Ron said, looking hopeful, "I mean...what's going to happen?"

"Ron! Of course Harry can't go! The safest place to be is Hogwarts," Hermione rounded on him. She seemed to be actually puffing up slightly.

"But, if we were with him, Black wouldn't dare-"

"Oh really, Black's already killed a bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he'd hesitate just because _we're_ there?" Hermione looked supremely annoyed.

"Well-" Ron started.

"It doesn't matter anyways," Harry sighed, "Uncle Vernon didn't sign my form, and when I asked Fudge, he wouldn't sign it either. But Hermione, Black can't be any worse than Voldemort can he?"

Both Ron and Hermione winced.

"That does not necessarily follow," The monotone of Justin cut in for the first time.

Harry turned around to look at him. _The Monster Book of Monsters_ was gone, but he was still sitting in his weird crouch, sucking on something that was probably sweet.

"What?" Harry asked.

"The most powerful and dangerous person in an organization is not always the leader. The leader is just the one who can organize everything and make decisions. Sometimes, in comparison with his followers, the leader of a terrorist organization or a gang is actually weaker than his actual fighters. Since Black is apparently unstable, he is likely to take risks that...the terrorist wouldn't," Justin didn't even bother to swallow his candy when talking.

Ron blinked, "What's a terrorist?"

"In the Muggle world they're people who attack civilians to cause a panic and bring down the government," Hermione said, "At least that's what I believe from the summer news. I've never really asked my parents... It just didn't seem necessary in the Wizarding World."

"That's close enough," Justin said.

Harry hadn't ever really thought of Voldemort as anything but the Dark Lord. It was strange to hear someone talk about him as just 'the terrorist'. He wasn't sure if he liked it. It made his parents' deaths seem so...ordinary somehow. As if they were victims of a terrorist attack instead of having sacrificed their lives to protect him from the most powerful Dark Lord in a century, but...Justin didn't really know any better. He just saw a Dark Lord as another criminal. He didn't know how horrifying Voldemort was to make even the most powerful Wizards, other than Dumbledore, terrified of even saying his name.

A Dark Lord and a terrorist really didn't have anything in common.

"Er...Justin, you're not going to tell anyone, right. The last thing I need this year is all the students thinking I need protection or something," Harry said, shoving down his own thoughts.

The Slytherins would never let him hear the end of it. He could hear the insults now, and Professor Snape, Harry's least favorite teacher would probably enjoy tormenting him with the knowledge for the rest of the year.

Before Justin could say anything, Ron spoke again.

"What's that?" he asked, looking around the compartment.

"What?" Hermione said, "I don't hear anything."

"That's because you're talking. Listen." Ron said.

Hermione huffed a little bit, but she stayed silent. The only sound was the kind of annoying sucking sound that Justin was making, but then he heard it, a high pitched ringing sound from somewhere inside the room.

"It's coming from my suitcase," Harry muttered, pulling if off the rack and opening it. Out fell the spinning and glowing pocket sneakoscope that Ron had given him for his birthday. Little sparks shot out from the bottom as it spun rapidly.

Even Justin stopped sucking to sit and stare at the thing.

"Is that...a sneakoscope?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, but...it's not a really good one," Ron muttered, his eyes trailing between Professor Lupin and Justin, "It did go haywire when I was getting Errol ready for his flight...but...I really wasn't supposed to be using Errol..."

"So...does that mean there's someone untrustworthy in the room?" Hermione asked Harry.

Harry looked around at the group and a felt the heaviness around him. Hermione was suddenly leaning as close to Harry and Ron as she could, and Ron was still looking between the sleeping professor and Justin, whose eyes had fallen unblinkingly on the sneakoscope. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

"I...don't think so...maybe it's picking up on someone in one of the other compartments...and..." Harry started, but he couldn't find the strength to say anything more. Ron relaxed a little and Hermione seemed to loosen up slightly.

But he still felt worried.

* * *

Although neither Professor Lupin nor Justin were really much for company, they did have their uses.

About noon, the compartment door slid open and in walked Draco Malfoy, flanked by his two cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Draco Malfoy was a pale, thin boy with white blond hair and an unpleasant, drawling voice. He was looking at them with a kind of self-satisfied smirk.

"Well, look here, it's Potty and the Weasel," he said as Crabbe and Goyle laughed trollishly.

Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy's bidding. They were both big, and gorilla-like, and the only really distinguishing things about them were Crabbe's long arms and Goyle's pudding bowl haircut.

"What are you doing in here?" Justin cut in.

Malfoy looked over at Justin for the first time, took in his oversized clothes, messy hair and almost vacant eyes and smirked.

"I have just as much right as anyone else to be in here," he said looking him over again, "My father mentioned that they were letting in some kind of broken down Wizard who just learned that he had powers three years too late. Pathetic, even for one of _your_ kind. I didn't know how right he was. I doubt even Gryffindor will take you in on pity. Maybe the Hufflepuffs will feel sorry enough to allow you to live with them. I wonder what the school's coming to."

Ron stiffened and Hermione looked like she was about to talk, but Justin beat her, looking completely uninterested.

"I mean why are you in this particular company. You obviously don't like them, and you seem to have a prejudice against me. Why don't you behave like others and ignore those whom you dislike?" Justin asked, his eyes widening, "There is an eighty percent chance that you have an unhealthy obsession with someone in this room."

Malfoy suddenly stiffened.

"It seems to me to be similar to the obsessive behavior of a fan," Justin pushed.

What little color there was in Malfoy's face left it, and he nodded to Crabbe and Goyle. Both of them began to creep up on Justin when Professor Lupin let out a sleepy kind of grunt.

Malfoy looked over at the figure and took a step back.

"Who's that?" he said. His voice had a hint of nervousness in it.

"New teacher," Hermione told him with a sweet smile, "I don't think he'd like being woken up, do you?"

For a moment, Malfoy was silent, seemingly weighing how much he'd like to see Justin beat up, and how much trouble it would cause.

"Come on," he said finally, and led the way out of the compartment.

Ron stared at Justin for a moment.

"That was brilliant," he said, "I'm inspired! I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year! I swear it he makes one more crack about my family I'm going to..."

He made a violent gesture in the air.

Justin blinked at him once, "If you did murder the boy, you would go to prison."

"It's a joke," Ron said quickly.

Justin stared at him again and then returned to the book that he was holding.

Ron gave Harry a confused look, and Harry shrugged. Weirdness aside, it had been funny to watch Malfoy pale like that, but also...why did Malfoy come and harass them?

Harry hadn't really thought about it before. Yes, he had offered to be Harry's friend when they first met on the train, but still...it had only been because he was the famous Harry Potter, not because he really wanted anything to do with Harry himself.

He had figured that out when they briefly met in a robe shop and Malfoy hadn't known who he was. Malfoy hadn't wanted a friend; he had wanted to be on first name terms with a celebrity. He was only angry because something he wanted had been refused to him. He had spent the last three years doing nothing but trying to make Harry's life miserable just because of that.

Harry was looking out the window while he was thinking, but he started suddenly. Wait.

"I think we're slowing down," He said in a confused voice, "But...we can't be a school yet. It's only eight."

But, sure enough, they were starting to slow down.

Hermione got up and tried to peer through the rain spattered windows into the darkness. There was a small boarding platform there. Harry could see the foggy shape of it outlined in the window, but he couldn't see much more than that.

"There's something...moving out there," Hermione whispered, "It...it looks like someone's coming aboard.

* * *

Hermione Granger's statement obviously bothered the other members of the group. Ron Weasley was nervously looking around the compartment, and Harry straining to see what was going on out the window. The only one who wasn't affected was the teacher, Lupin (odd name, rather like lupus or wolf) and that was because he slept like the dead.

Lupin hadn't even been affected when the glorified school yard bully and his friends turned up. That was an odd situation. The boy was pretty much incapable at this point of any real, lasting harm, but the one...with the strange haircut that looked like he had put a bowl over his head and cut around the rim...he looked like he was smarter and more vicious than he looked.

Malfoy, as Lawliet believed the white haired boy was called, would probably be a thorn in Harry's side for the rest of his life as a sort of obsessive fan stalking. There were healthier ways to go about it, but judging from how he acted, he was the spoiled, only son of an aristocrat who was used to having whatever he wanted. Apparently, he hadn't gotten it and was throwing a tantrum. It was rather stupid, really. He had probably insulted one of the Harry's new friends, and then refused to even consider apologizing.

Lawliet had better things to worry about than that child though.

Harry's friends' reactions to the news that Black had targeted Harry showed a great deal of their feelings for the boy. Ron Weasley seemed confident that nothing truly bad could ever happen to them. This was most likely (sixty-two percent) because there had been similar incidents in the past that no one had bothered to tell him when discussing Harry's life. Hermione Granger seemed to understand the severity of the situation a little better. Or maybe she was just accustomed to being the only person in their little group of friends who did worry. Of the two of Harry's friends, she was the one that he would bother to talk to.

At any rate, Lawliet had the issue of the new passengers. Dumbledore hadn't told him anything about anyone coming aboard, so this was either a development from after he had left or something of a surprise.

If there was anything that Lawliet truly disliked, it was surprises. And socks and spicy food, but that was beside the point.

Around them, the lighting flickered and went out. To the startled noises of the others.

"Do you think we should find someone?" Weasley said, sounding set, "See what's going on?"

"I'll go," Granger told them in a tone of confidence that was betrayed by a slight quiver.

Lawliet heard her walking to the door, but before she could open it, it opened and someone fell into the room.

"Arg! Sorry! Can you tell me what's going on! The lights are out everywhere and-"

"Hello, Neville," Harry said, "Hermione's going to go talk to the conductor, so have a seat."

There was a pause then a screeching hoot and a yelp of pain followed by another yelp and a hiss. Apparently, Neville had tried to sit on Nero and then, to add to his misfortune, sat on Granger's cat, who obviously didn't appreciate it.

"Not here!" Harry called out.

"Don't sit here," Lawliet said, sensing that he was coming closer, "I'm here."

"Who're you?" Neville seemed surprised that someone else was there.

The door opened again and there were the sounds of two people falling and two shrieks of shock and pain.

"Ginny?" Granger's voice asked.

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron,"

"Ah...sit down then,"

"I'm still sitting here," Lawliet cautioned.

"Eek!" one of the girls squeaked.

"Ouch!" someone said.

"Quiet!" A tired, rasping voice said, "Stay where you are."

It appeared that the professor hadn't managed to sleep through their racket. Lawliet could hear the sounds of life coming from his part of the compartment, and a moment later there was a crackling and a sudden wavering light. Lupin stood, holding what appeared to be blue flames in his right hand.

Despite the fact that he was only approximately in his late twenties to early thirties, there was gray hair that streaked though the brown, and his eyes looked more tired than someone his age should have been. The faint light only served to make him look even older.

"Wait here, I'm going to speak with the conductor," he said, moving towards the door.

Yet, before he'd reached it, the door opened by itself.

The thing standing there wasn't a person. People aren't usually ten feet tall, and they usually aren't completely concealed with a black cloak that covered their face, but the thing that proved to Lawliet that whatever it was wasn't human was the hand that was outside of the cloak. It was gray and scabbed. Lawliet had seen the corpses of people who had been dumped into water once killed or just been drowned, and that was what their skin looked like.

The _thing_ drew a single rattling breath, and the air grew cold.

And the bells started to ring. It was soft at first and easy to ignore, but as Lawliet's vision started to blur they grew louder, and something else began to become apparent. A smell. One that Lawliet would have liked to have forgotten about, that made his stomach clench and his candy breakfast threaten to return to the surface.

The smell of burning flesh.

_Someone was crying, but it was faint, smothered sounding. The smell was everywhere, and the bells of the nearby church were tolling. He could hear the sirens, but they were mostly drowned out by the bells that seemed to be mourning for the dead and the dying._

_His failure._

"Mr. Wallace? Can you hear me?" Lawliet didn't recognize the voice for a moment, but the world came back into focus soon enough.

For some reason that was slightly beyond him, he was lying flat on his back, staring up at Professor Lupin. Harry was a little ways away from him, surrounded by his friends. Lawliet sat up, but the feeling of cold as still there, and he could see his hands shaking slightly. Also, a strange weakness was in his body and his mind felt strange and foggy.

He hadn't felt his weak in years.

"Are you feeling alright?" Lupin asked.

"Fine," Lawliet lied.

"Wha...what's going on? Who screamed?" Harry's voice sounded groggy.

"N-no one screamed," Granger said, looking at the Professor nervously.

"Ginny was shaking like mad though," Weasley offered.

"I was not!" a red haired girl who was obviously Weasley's sister said a tremble in her voice.

"But...I heard..." Harry trailed off at the blank and worried looks that everyone was giving him.

"I heard bells," Lawliet said, standing up and settling himself back on his seat, "But no screaming."

Lawliet had no idea why he had even said that. He had no reason what so ever to make Potter feel less stupid. He supposed because he didn't like the way that they were looking at Potter.

Seventy-two percent of people see themselves in other people when they face a similar problem to one they faced at some point in their life. How annoying to be with the majority.

"None of us heard anything," Neville said, "but...it was cold, and I felt...strange..."

"...yeah...like I'd never be happy again..." Ron said, his eyes seemed distant and he shivered a little bit. Honestly he looked like one of the near misses of a killer who was recounting the horror of what they had seen.

A sudden snap caught Lawliet's attention and he turned to see Lupin breaking a large piece of chocolate into pieces and handing each of them one.

"What was that?" Harry asked as he took his piece.

"A Dementor. One of the Dementors of Azkaban. Eat, it'll help," Lupin said, "I'm going to go talk to the conductor. Wait here."

And then he was gone, his body swaying a little itself, and Lawliet wondered...had he seen or heard anything?

Lawliet wasn't one to pass up free candy. Particularly when the person who gave it to him could have finished him off when he'd had the chance, so Lawliet bit in.

Instantly, he felt a warmth starting to spread from his mouth to the rest of his body. That was odd. Maybe the magic was being offset by the natural antidepressants in the chocolate. Lawliet wondered what effect different kinds of chocolate would have on a person, and whether or not white chocolate counted. (Thirty-three percent. It wasn't really chocolate.)

"What happened?" Harry asked, looking upset.

"Well...when the thing came in, you and Justin went sort of ridged and you fell out of your seat and started twitching," Hermione said, looking from one to the other, "I was really worried. I thought that they were causing you to have some kind of fit or something..."

"And then Professor Lupin kind of jumped up and pointed his wand at it, and he said 'None of us are hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go!' or something like that. It sounded really cool!" Ron described, adding unnecessary detail, "But the Dementor didn't move. It just stood there sucking in the air around it, and then Lupin shot a bunch of silver stuff at it, and it sort of...glided away."

"It was terrible," Neville Longbottom piped up, "I thought-"

"But no one else fell out of their chairs," Harry muttered, giving Lawliet a dubious look.

Lawliet leaned forwards, chewed on his finger and stared at Harry as he thought. Harry's feeling of misgiving aside, he had a point. What connected him and Harry that would lead to their similar reactions to the thing?

It didn't seem like much. Yes, they were both without parents, but that couldn't be that uncommon, particularly in a place that had a war twelve years ago. If that was the cause, more people would have reacted that way.

Besides, Harry's family was confirmed as dead; whereas, his were just as likely to have been alive. After all, someone had to leave him in that dumpster.

He would have to work out the connection later.

* * *

Lawliet did not enjoy the rest of the trip, particularly not the boat ride.

The entire process seemed to have been created as a kind of indoctrination or intimidation. It was there to impress the young children with the size and age of the castle. It was probably a throw back from the Middle Ages when the children who didn't have Wizards and Witches as family might have had powerful family members who weren't overly thrilled that the child had been taken to learn magic, and the children would tell them that attacking the castle wouldn't be an easy feat.

After all, such a large, impressive fortress wouldn't be easy to storm. Still, chances were that there were times when it was attempted.

The eleven-year-olds were all subdued into the correct feeling of being impressed, while Lawliet just sat in his boat with his feet tucked under him, sucking on a jolly rancher that he had found in his pockets. (He really didn't even know where it had come from.)

What really upset him was the tentacle that he had seen slip under the water.

What kind of school managed to have a giant squid? How could a salt water animal such as giant squid manage to live in an obviously fresh water lake? Was this some kind of fresh water relative of the giant squid? What did it eat?

Those questions would probably remain as unanswered as the ones about just what the gamekeeper was. No human being was built like that.

Once he was finally on solid ground again, Lawliet was faced with the stern face of Professor McGonagall.

"Wallace, come with me," she said, her mouth a very thing line.

Lawliet slouched up the stairs and slowly followed her. She didn't lead him to her office, just out of the hallway where the children had been assembled to await whatever judgment was supposed to fall on them in this stage.

"I heard from Professor Lupin that you were taken ill on the train. Potter had the same problem. I assume that you were given chocolate?"

"Yes, Professor," Lawliet said, chewing on his thumb.

"I'm not going to bother poor Poppy, our nurse, again tonight, but I want you to report to her if you feel the least bit strange," McGonagall said, looking him over once, "However, that's not the reason that I called you aside. I wished to talk to you about your schedule."

"What about it?" Lawliet asked, "I signed up for everything available. If you are concerned with my ability to keep up with the work, I am more than capable of handling a few classes along with my usual work." And Lawliet wanted to see just what they taught these children.

McGonagall's lips thinned again.

"That may be, but the teachers don't have a schedule that allows you to attend every class, and none are willing to give private lessons in the evening. I've dropped you from Muggle Studies and Arithmancy. I believe that they are two fields from which you will get little from, given your background," she said.

She wasn't lying. Lawliet, being a very good liar, was excellent at noticing one. McGonagall honestly didn't think that either class was necessary, and she was trying to give him the classes that she thought would be the most foreign to him, thereby the most interesting and 'magical'. The problem was that Lawliet had no real interest in the school or magic. Once he was done with this case, he would be glad to leave this world behind him.

If only he didn't have the nagging feeling he wasn't noticing something.

"Do you have any objections with my choices?" McGonagall asked, raising one eyebrow. She must have thought that his staring meant something.

"None at all," Lawliet lied, "I was considering withdrawing from both classes anyways."

Actually, he had been kind of interested in magical math. Even if he doubted that it would have much of a purpose, and Muggle Studies was imperative.

He had promised to send the Prime Minister statements, and the Wizards' view of the rest of the world would have been very...enlightening.

"Good. The Sorting will have begun now, and I have to talk with Potter and Granger. I would ask you to please stay out of sight until you're called up. Professor Dumbledore would like to introduce you in a way that both fulfills the drama of the situation and doesn't make the Sorting of the other children feel rushed or unappreciated. It's a very important day for them."

Yes, after all, it wasn't every day that you had a dirty, centuries old hat decide your friends, enemies, and most likely outlook on life just by screaming a single word at eleven. McGonagall was clever enough, in a way, but she so easily bought what was clearly a system that would cause nothing but division and injustice. What was the point of it?

"I'm looking forwards too it," Lawliet said.

McGonagall nodded approvingly, something like a smile beginning to reach her lips, and the door. Harry and Granger were both waiting there, looking unhappy.

"What'd she want you for?" Harry hissed.

"Classes," Lawliet said, shuffling past him into the hall where a group a children were still waiting to be placed in one of the four houses.

In the center of the entire room, sat the hat on a stool. It was ancient, and Lawliet at some level would have loved to have examined it just to see how it different from the more modern hats. Clothing from a thousand years ago was hard to come by, and while it had nothing to do with Lawliet's usual job, it just seemed interesting.

When finally "Vayne, Roxanna" dashed off to join the table where the students wore black and yellow ties, Dumbledore finally stood up.

"We have a bit of a rarity for the Sorting this year. As many of you know, there are times in the world when a person's powers manifest later in life, and we have the pleasure this year in welcoming one such student. Due to his ability to make up much of the work he needed to, this student will be sorted, but will join the Third Year students in their lessons. He will have to work extra hard to keep up with all of you, so I hope that you will support him.

"Wallace, Justin!" A very small man called, reading his name off of a roll of parchment.

Lawliet walked forwards, sat on the desk with his knees up to his chin, and ignored the muffled snickers while the hat was dumped on his head.

Lawliet didn't really know what to expect.

_Well this is an unusual challenge. Very difficult. The older ones always are. A much more developed personality. I see intelligence...oh, yes, great intelligence...and decent talent too...so...where shall I put you... _The voice could have almost been someone whispering in his ear, but it just seemed different. More like it was inside his ear somehow.

_Gryffindor. I want to be in Gryffindor. Potter's in Gryffindor, and it would be easier for me to solve this case if I were in the same living space._ Lawliet thought at the hat.

_I see that you're rather single minded. Aren't you at all interested in the other things that this world has to offer you? You're an odd one, since you seem to be viewed as an adult in your world, but this is an opportunity to gain the recognition of an entirely new world. Ravenclaw or Slytherin would help you to understand this new world._ Was the hat...tempting him?

_No, I wish to solve this case. I will leave once it is solved to my liking. Place me in Gryffindor. _Lawliet was starting to feel like a petulant child.

_Perhaps Hufflepuff would be better as you have such motivation to complete your task..._ The hat said thoughtfully.

_No, hat, place me in Gryffindor with the target. _Lawliet said again. He was starting to feel like a broken record, _This world would demand that I give my loyalty to it._

_And you feel that there are too many...cases...that depend on you, _the hat continued.

_Yes, now, please finish what you're doing and place me in Gryffindor._

_I suppose that, you have a peculiar kind of courage. Not one that Godric would have thought of that involved standing up to a great enemy, but one that allows you to keep working. Well, if you're that stubborn, I hope you find some allies for yourself in _GRYFFINDOR!

The last word was a shout that the entire room heard, and Lawliet slowly removed the hat and set it on the bench.

For a moment, everything was silent, but then the hall with the students wearing red and gold broke into dubious applause.

Lawliet noticed that the other tables were looking relieved.

* * *

Justin wasn't received with the most enthusiastic applause in the world. Really, the other Gryffindors looked like they wished the student who didn't seem to be able to sit would have gone to some other house. The other houses looked relieved, and, naturally, the Slytherins were smirking at them.

Justin either didn't notice or didn't care as he shuffled towards him, giving each and every one of them that blank stare and taking a crouch close to Harry.

"Er, welcome to Gryffindor," Harry said, not quite sure what to say.

Justin nodded, but anything that he was going to say was forgotten when Professor Dumbledore stood up for his traditional beginning of term speech.

Harry turned his eyes away from Justin, and forced himself to look at the staff table. There was Dumbledore, with his long beard, crooked nose and half-moon spectacles, along with him was someone he'd never seen before. Being Hagrid and Professor Snape, who was glaring over at Professor Lupin with a look that went far beyond hatred, was a woman. She was small and squat with very pink cardigan, and a black bow on her head that somehow reminded Harry of a fly on the top of a frog's head.

It was hard not to dislike the woman on the spot.

"Well, well, welcome all of you. We've already had some excitement during the Sorting, but before you're all befuddled by our feast, we have quite a few announcements in the staff to make. First of all, I would like to introduce Professor Lupin, who had kindly accepted our offer to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

There was some scattered, lukewarm applause. Only the people who had been in the same compartment with him actually clapped hard. Even Justin had kind of slammed his hands together. Kind of like a mechanical monkey clanging cymbals together.

"Next," Dumbledore continued, "I regret to tell you that Professor Kettleburn resigned at the end of the last term, in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs."

There were some nervous laughs in the crowd.

"But, I have happy to announce that the position has been filled by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!"

This time there was a very enthusiastic applause. People knew and liked Hagrid, and the fact that he had been cleared of accidentally unleashing the monster in the Chamber of Secrets had been one of the best things about the last year. Hagrid was almost in tears as he buried his bearded face behind a massive hand.

"Finally, I would like to welcome, Delores Umbridge, Senor Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, who has, as Professor Hagrid is still inexperienced, very kindly agreed to take on the position of Assistant Professor of Care of Magical Creatures."

The woman stood up and gave a simpering smile at the crowd of students, who all looked completely unimpressed. There was some polite applause, but there was little else.

Professor Umbridge sat down again with another simpering smile at the headmaster.

"Now, let us begin our feast!" Professor Dumbledore said, looking around as the food appeared.

* * *

**Omake**: Free Time

Whammy hadn't had this kind of free time in years, and he knew that he shouldn't be spending it in this way.

It was immature, unmanly and if anyone had seen him, he would have had a long and complicated explanation to make. Still, with L gone, what did he have to do during the day other than make sure that all the files were in order and occasionally look over some cases he kind of thought were interesting.

So, he did feel a little better with that thought.

Also, it was so addicting!

"No, you fool!" Whammy suddenly said, "John, don't you dare! Marsha has been faithful to you, even when Blake offered to run away with her, and she's welcomed your illegitimate young son into the family with open arms! You filthy man!"

As to be expected, the TV didn't respond.

He really needed to stop watching soap operas.

* * *

_Thanks so much for your patience! Things have been a little exciting over here with a hurricane and an earthquake. Not that the earthquake was something that I really noticed. Sad but true._

_I hope you enjoyed and are satisfied with what I've done. I know that most people thought that L should have been in Slytherin, and honestly, I thought that it would have been interesting, but...let's face it. L's only interest is solving the case. He isn't really interested in actually learning magic._

_Additional Notes:_

_Lucius and Narcissa: Um, yeah, I'm bringing them into this, but I have no intention whatsoever of ever having them just ally themselves with Harry's group for no reason. I've seen plenty of well writing stories where it works, but I just can't see them being tolerant of Harry's ideas at the best of times. I will always see them as thinking they're doing the right thing, but horribly prejudiced and only really interested in their immediate family. I mean, the only reason Narcissa didn't betray Harry was because Harry's winning meant a better chance of her son's survival. _

_Terrorist: Well, Voldemort really does work like one, and it seemed logical to me for L to think of Voldemort as a magic terrorist. I think that the title of 'Dark Lord' kind of adds a bit of drama that 'terrorist' doesn't, which is why I'm mentioning this. The Wizards don't seem to see law breakers as criminals, they see them as 'Dark Wizards' which gives the whole thing a kind of romanticism. You might disagree, but that's my thoughts on the issue._

_Draco Malfoy: It seems like the most likely attack that L would make is a verbal one, and Draco really does sometimes act like an obsessive fan of Harry. There's just no reason for the amount of attention that he seems to give the trio, and I think being called out on it would probably upset him more than being beat up. Which is done way too much by crossover writers. I just didn't want to do it, and I won't expect Draco to get a beat down for some time. It just seems corny to me._

_Orphans: Has anyone but me ever noticed that no one but Harry and Neville ever seem to be mentioned as having lost their parents in the First War? Even when it was mentioned that Voldy killed off a ton of families. Surely there should have been some kid who was staying with family at the time or that the Death Eaters missed or just didn't kill. Like Susan Bones. It was said that her family was killed off, but we never hear anything from her._

_Cardigan: Fun confession time! I had to look this one up. I thought that it was a hat at first. Yeah...I'm kind of pathetic...you'd think a girl who know more about clothes..._

_Umbridge: No, she's not going to make a speech like the one she made in OotP. There's no reason for it. At this time, Dumbledore has a very good reputation, and attacking him would only hurt her, but don't worry, she's going to be just as sadistic, but only in a different way._

_Review!_

_Pryotra_


	5. Assistant Professor Umbridge

_Author's Corner: I love all of you. This story has achieved a hundred reviews out of three chapters and a note. You all rock in your support of this story, and I promise that I will do my best not to disappoint you. I'll do my best to make this story so seamless that you will think that this is just the way it must have happened._

_It helps that L's past isn't really known other than a few tantalizing hints. It means that I can do whatever I want with it, and I intend to do some stuff with it._

_I'm glad that my rendition of the Malfoys got so much love from you guys. It really makes me feel better about what I'm going to do to them. It's...I've never seen it done in hp fanfiction, but it's going to cause them...a little stress...but not until my version of GoF, so, you'll have to wait a while._

_Introducing: The Rant line-Where Pryotra complains: One thing that really confuses me in Harry Potter fanon is the belief that Sirius and James never read and Remus was the smart one. While it works nicely with stereotypes, the books contradict this. Both were noted at being exceptionally bright (they would have to be to come up with how to be an animagi at fifteen) and Sirius flat states that he doesn't need to cram because he already knows the answers. While this is showing a lot of overconfidence, the claim seems to be backed up. There's nothing to say that Remus was 'the smart one'. It's more likely that he was 'the nice(r) one' while Peter was 'the parasitic tag along'. All of them were smart. You don't become Head Boy on charm alone._

_Alright, so hear we go._

_Disclaimer: Pryotra owns no part of Harry Potter or Death Note. She would not be wondering about how a seven dollar pizza will affect her finances if she did._

_Thanks to my new beta, The Epitome of Eccentricity, for all his hard work._

_**The paradox of education is precisely this - that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated.  
-James Baldwin **_

* * *

In Sirius's dreams, the dead and the living often intermingled.

James talked to him, laughing about something that Harry had done and how Lily was still almost obsessive in her quest for a perfect house. Regulus sat close by, knowing that they really weren't that close, but still acknowledging their blood relationship as always. Remus (looking shabby and tired like always) read through the _Daily Prophet, _probably looking for a job, and sometimes commenting on something that James said, usually in that absent way that he'd gotten before... glowered at him for ruining her perfect new sofa with his dirty 'flea-ridden' body, but still smiled slightly when she mentioned that she would get him something to drink. Baby Harry sat on the floor, playing with the stuffed bear that they had enchanted to hug him back (Lily said he was too young for magical things, but James had talked her into it). Even Peter was there, laughing when James laughed, complimenting Sirius on whatever it was he was supposed to have done, and then smiling slightly as he touched his left arm.

Since he'd managed to get out of Azkaban, the dreams had come every night. Sirius was sure that this was some kind of mental healing, and, no matter how many times he woke up crying, he was always glad that he'd seen them again, even like that.

Everyone, that is, other than Peter.

The first real happiness that he'd had was when he'd seen Harry for the first time in twelve years. If he hadn't known better, he'd have said that James Potter had come back from the dead. Sirius hadn't expected Harry to remember him, but the fear in his eyes had hurt.

He wanted to know that Harry was safe, that he had made the right decision. Now, on his way to kill Peter, it became more and more important that Harry didn't know the truth. It was better that way. It wasn't like telling him would have done anything but caused pain. It would have been better for Harry to think that Sirius had killed Lily and James (which he obviously had, no matter how indirectly).

He had known from the moment that Hagrid said that Dumbledore had wanted Harry to go to his mother's family that he had already been convicted. All taking Harry would have done was delay things. Now, all he had left was Peter.

Peter, who betrayed them.

Sirius would get to Hogwarts and kill Peter. Nothing after that mattered. He could be killed, kissed, imprisoned, or whatever. As long as Harry was safe and Peter was dead, Sirius was alright with every option.

The lights of Hogsmead finally appeared beneath him, looking exactly the same as they did on the night when the four of them had sneaked up here on one of their full moon adventures. The castle itself was brightly lit, probably welcoming the students. Was it the beginning of term already?

Sirius let out a doggie sigh. How time flies when you're having fun.

Peter... no _Wormtail_ was in there, waiting, perfectly positioned to take Harry to Voldemort at the very moment when he was regaining strength. Where would the best place to hide be? The Shack? Maybe... At least in there he might be able to take his proper shape for once. The forest? Oh, please no. One run in with those spiders was enough.

But Remus would immediately think of going to the Shack (it was their favorite place to go as students), and Sirius was sure that Dumbledore had gotten Remus there to help protect Harry. After all, who but Remus would have been willing to face a homicidal Sirius Black to protect his old friend's son?

So that meant the forest after all.

Sirius made his way down the mountain and into the village. It didn't look very different from when he had been there as a student. It seemed almost like it was yesterday and again like it was from the point of view of a completely different person. One whose only worries were how much he could flirt with Madame Rosemerta without getting kicked out

"Oh, aren't you a beautiful doggy!" someone called to him and Sirius turned to see an old woman come towards him, "come here, precious!"

Sirius failed to see how a giant, starving dog was all that attractive, but his nose detected the smell of food on her, and he tentatively crept near her. Remus hadn't told, had he? That couldn't be- they would have used something to catch him...

She was a small but strongly built woman, and she walked without the aid of a cane. Her thin gray hair was pulled up in a wispy looking bun, and she carried with her the unmistakable scent of dog. Lots and lots of dogs. She wore a simple looking gray dress with a bright yellow coat that went over it, and she was holding something out for him.

Meat.

Real, _red_ meat.

Sirius liked to think that he was in control of any instincts that his dog self might have, but the sudden introduction of meat to his starving senses made it hard to control the dog, which said to eat first, and ask questions later. He found himself trotting over to her before he could even consider what he was doing.

The woman seemed to have some kind of experience with strays because she tossed him bits of the meat from a distance.

"You're a handsome one, you know that?" she said, smiling cheerfully at him, "what was your last owner thinking to leave you on your own? Must have been a Muggle."

Because only Muggles ignored their pets.

This woman didn't strike Sirius as being overly sane, but than again, most Wizards and Witches were only so sane. Still, he did give him food, and seemed convinced that he was just a stray so Sirius decided to play 'lovable, abandoned doggy' and the woman just about melted at the slow wags and sad eyes.

"Oh, you poor darling!" she gushed, "You just come here to Mopsy!"

Mopsy?

Sirius dearly hoped that his hearing had been damaged from the screams in Azkaban and this was not that dog obsessed woman who had tried to catch him and Remus once when they were on one of their Full Moon runs.

Still, it was better than the forest...

Sirius hoped.

* * *

The end of the feast meant that it was time for the students to go up to their separate common rooms, and after congratulating the nearly sobbing Hagrid, Harry made his way towards the exit, followed by Ron and Hermione. He tried to ignore the Slytherins, who seemed to be being entertained by some very funny story that Draco Malfoy was telling. Harry supposed that news of his fainting fit would be all over the school my the next day.

"Ignore it, Harry," Ron hissed, "Fred says that the little git nearly wet himself when he came running into their cabin."

Hermione nodded.

"Most Wizards are terrified of Dementors," she added, "I don't see why Malfoy thinks that he can make this into some big deal. Most people won't even care."

Justin, who had followed them, didn't say anything. He just stared over at the Slytherins as if he was memorizing something. Harry deeply hoped that Malfoy had Justin as his potions partner from now on. It would serve him right.

Things would have gone on in an uneventful way if it hadn't been for the owl that was waiting for them the moment that Percy gave them the password (Fortuna Major, poor Neville).

Someone must have let the thing in, because the moment that he entered into the place, he could see the giant black red eyed horror screeching around the room, attacking anyone who got to close to it.

"Isn't that your owl?" Ron hissed to Justin.

"It looks like Nero," Justin nodded, "But I can't see why this place allows birds in the bedrooms.

He walked calmly as Nero decided to dive bomb Neville and Colin Creevy, who had been foolish enough to get near the thing with his camera. Harry supposed that he was hoping for a good picture to show someone.

The owl very suddenly turned to see Ron and with a screech, dove to attack him. Maybe it remembered him from earlier or something. Ron fell over, and Scabbers who had been hiding in his pocket the whole time, dashed out, avoided Nero, who was still busy with harassing Ron and almost run directly into Crookshanks, who dropped down from the stairs that led to the girl's dorms.

Scabbers let out a squeak of terror and ran off, managing to zig-zag through the legs of various students and finally slip out the open portrait hole with Crookshanks is hot pursuit.

"Arg, stupid cat! Bloody owl!" Ron growled as he dashed out of the portrait hole after his pet.

"No, Crookshanks!" Hermione yelled, also running after the pair.

Fred (or George) Weasley managed to get one of the windows open while George (or Fred) managed to persuade the owl to leave with a series of explosions. Nero disappeared out the window with a growling hoot of total disdain.

"Alright, who let in the psycho owl?" George said, looking around the suddenly quiet room.

Everyone was silent.

"Maybe it was a House Elf?"someone suggested.

Harry hadn't realized that there were House Elves at Hogwarts. His last experience with them made him feel a little nervous. Hopefully none of them were going to try to save him from Sirius Black. The last time a House Elf tried to save him, he had to have all the bones in his arm regrown. Painfully.

"Maybe it was Sirius Black," someone whispered to their friend.

"That's stupid," Fred said, glowering at the person who spoken. "If it were Black, he wouldn't have come in through a _tower window_ would he?"

"Maybe he would have come through the Dungeons..." George muttered, a grin starting to grow on his face, "I would love to see some of the Slytherins deal with that."

"Enough, you two," Percy said, stepping up for the first time. It looked like Nero had managed to trip him up since his glasses were smudged looking, and he was dusting himself off. "We'll assume that this was either an honest mistake or a House Elf. There's no reason to be discussing things like Black. There's no way he could have gotten past the Dementors anyways. We're completely safe."

Somehow, he did manage to calm down pretty much everyone. Harry didn't like the thought of the Dementors, but, if there were out there, Black didn't stand a chance of getting by them.

"Er, shouldn't someone go find Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, raising one hand.

Percy gave him a kind of sage-like nod.

"Yes, Harry. Since I am Headboy, I shall be the one to do that. While the term hasn't truly started yet, they still might be in trouble if they're caught out of bed. We wouldn't want to lose House Points before the term even started...Fred...George..."

Percy glared over at the twins, who were smirking at one another.

"I bet no one's ever done that before..."

"NO!"

* * *

The night had been mostly uneventful from Lawliet's point of view.

Even the incident with Nero wasn't that interesting, other than when the eldest brother had retrieved Ron and Hermione. Hermione was holding her cat, which looked annoyed about something, while Ron was obviously irate. He was glaring at Hermione, and Lawliet could actually see his ears turning red, which was rather interesting and very bad for concealment of emotions.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione finally burst out, "He's probably hiding somewhere!"

"Or rotting somewhere..." Ron muttered darkly, "It's not fair. Scabbers was here first, and your evil cat had to go and kill him for no reason!"

It seemed that Ron was missing some important information about the food chain and how cats and rats were related on it, but Ron wasn't done, he then rounded on Lawliet.

"And it's your fault to! If you hadn't brought that owl in..." He raged.

Lawliet cocked his head, "I believe that I had nothing to do with it being allowed in."

"But it's your owl!" Ron yelled, his ears really were getting as red as his hair, how disconcerting.

Why was he so upset about that rat?

"Did you see the body?" Lawliet finally asked.

"No, but-"

"Do you have proof that my owl or Granger's cat lead to it's death?"

"I saw-"

"Did you see the death of the rat?"

"No, but-"

"Then you do not have the evidence necessary to hold up a case against me or Granger. Circumstantial evidence cannot hold up well, and that is all that you have. Particularly when Granger is right, and there is a sixty percent chance that the rat is alive and hiding somewhere," Lawliet said. He was getting bored by this whole thing.

Ron looked livid.

"So because I don't have 'evidence' you're not going to take responsibility!"

"No. Not until you prove that the rat is at least dead. It would be unfair to demand payment until then. At any rate, there was nothing I could do to prevent the owl coming in here. Take it up with whatever servant opened the window."

"That's enough!" Percy cut in, "Really, it's not even the beginning of term. Ron, Wallace has a point. We don't even know if Scabbers is dead. We'll look for him in the morning, in the mean time, get some rest."

Ron past them by, glaring over at Lawliet as he passed and ignoring Granger's attempt to talk to him. Harry gave them both a sympathetic look and took off up the stairs.

"Oh, sure, side with Ron, you always do," Granger muttered, and stormed up herself.

Lawliet had the distinct feeling that this wasn't the first time that this had happened with them. He had read somewhere that a couple who fought with one another were healthy because all frustrations were vented out before they could cause damage to the marriage. He wondered if platonic relationships worked the same way.

Lawliet sat down by the fire, waiting for the other students to leave, most of them ignored him, until at last the room was empty. He stood, shuffled over to the fire, threw the 'floo powder' (which somehow sounded unsanitary) into the fireplace and named the hotel and room Wammy was at.

He had plenty of work to do.

* * *

Hermione and Ron still weren't talking to one another the next morning. Meaning that Harry had to sit between them and try to make a conversation while they would talk to him, but ignore one another. Justin wasn't helping either. He was crouched there, picking at a strawberry and ignoring the look that Ron was giving him.

A rush of wings overhead gave Harry the chance to, hopefully, change the subject.

"Mail's here," Harry said, watching as Hedwig came down to meet him, nipped him affectionately on the ear and helped herself to his bacon.

"You know, Hedwig's such a great owl," Ron said, "In all that time I had Scabbers, she never once tried to eat him. Not like some peoples' pets."

Hermione huffed to herself a little, but then she got distracted by her schedule. Looking it over and nodding to herself. Harry looked over at it. He remembered that she had been taking more subjects then him and wondered how that was going to work. Looking over at her, Harry's eyes widened.

"Hermione, did someone make a mistake with your schedule?" he asked.

Ron, completely forgetting that he was angry with Hermione, looked over to see what Harry was talking about.

"No, it's fine. Professor McGonagall told me just what to expect," Hermione said, smiling.

"But-" Harry started.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. My schedule's a little full, but it won't be a problem."

Justin, learned over the table to see the schedule. He blinked once, slowly, and cocked his head, like some bizarre parrot learning a new word.

"That's impossible," he said after a while.

Harry had to agree. There was no way that Hermione could have a Divination, Muggle Studies and Arithmancy class at the same time.

"Oh, honestly, it's my schedule. Neither of you should worry so much," Hermione sighed and glanced at her watch, "Oh, we need to get going if we're going to get to Divination. It's up in the North Tower, so we're going to have quite the walk ahead of us."

Hermione stood up, looked at the two boys expectantly, and then started walking away. Ron, looking a little too innocent walked after her, and Harry followed. He didn't notice that Justin was following them until they were already out of the room.

Did he have Divination too? Harry hadn't asked.

* * *

The run to the North Tower was long, and if it wasn't for the help of a nutty picture of a knight, they might not have gotten there on time.

Justin seemed to be walking on autopilot as his brain rebooted from a painted knight calling him a demon knight. Ron seemed to see the whole thing as some kind of justice for Scabbers and was in a much better mood then before. He still wasn't talking to either of them, though.

There was already a line waiting at the entrance, but at exactly nine, a ladder descended and they were allowed in. Harry almost gagged on the heavy perfume of the place, and Justin's eyes got so wide that they almost seemed like saucers.

"Come in," a dreamy voice said, "So lovely to meet you in the corporal world at last."

Hermione was scowling as the woman stepped into the slight.

Harry's first impression was of some kind of giant insect. The woman wore green and several necklaces that jingled and clanked together when she moved, and her glasses magnified her eyes to several times their original size.

"I am Sybil Trelawney. So, you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all fields. I regret to tell you that books can only take you so far in this field, and...around November, one of our number will leave us...forever..." The woman said. Her voice was soft and dreamy, and she moved in a quick, nervous way that reminded Harry even more of some kind of giant insect.

Maybe he should have taken Arithmancy, Harry thought as they were told to get some tea and drink it, he wasn't sure whether he was deeply creeped out or very impressed.

* * *

Tea with no sugar was one of the most disgusting things that Lawliet had ever had. Second only to coffee without sugar. At least tea without sugar only tasted like dead plants. Coffee without sugar just tasted like something dead.

Also, who in their right mind drank the tea with the leaves floating around?

Granger looked annoyed too, but it wasn't for the same reason. She had taken a seat with him on the table, while Weasley and Harry sat together. For a moment she had looked after them, but she'd huffed, sighed and looked at her tea.

"I hope you don't mind partnering with me, but since Pavarti and Lavender are always paring up with each other, and well..." for for a second her eyes flickered over to Neville Longbottom, the boy who had gone into the compartment who had already broken one tea cup.

Ah, so that would make him the outsider of the group. There was always one person who the rest of the children avoided. Not because they overly even disliked him, but because it wasn't adventitious to be with. In a school like this, someone who had little magic and was clumsy was obviously going to be avoided and mostly friendless.

Lawliet shrugged and made himself comfort able, trying to drink his tea and not gag and the same time. Most of the students had been very intimidated by Trelawney's rather impressive tactics. She had chosen the weakest, and most self-conscious of the group, guessed his clumsiness and exploited it, making herself look like she had foretold it. Obviously, someone usually got fed up and left in every class.

Lawliet hoped it was Potter.

Then he could leave too.

"Um...do you always sit like that?" Granger's voice seemed unsure of whether she should mention it or not.

Lawliet blinked, and noticed that she was looking at his crouch.

"I find that my mental ability drops forty percent when I don't sit this way," he said.

Granger blinked, opened her mouth and seemed to decide against saying anything. "Er...if you're done, I'll look at your leaves. I don't really expect to see anything though. This class is total rubbish. Particularly in connection to my Arithmancy class!"

Lawliet nodded once, and handed her the cup.

"Professor Vector actually seemed to know what she was talking around. I don't see why everyone seemed to think she was tough. It was worth more than this," Granger took the cup, opened her book and started to look around at the little symbols.

It was rather foolish to tell a complete stranger about a class that you couldn't possibly have taken (unless there was some spell that allowed you to be in multiple places at the same time) still, it was very informative about Granger's character and relationship with Harry. She wasn't as close to Harry as Weasley was, and between the two of them, Harry appeared to take Weasley's side.

"You have a big block," Granger finally said, "And there's nothing in the book other than a square. And that means immobility in the future."

Lawliet looked over at it, and he had to agree. The thing in the center looked pretty much like a rectangle. It was in the center, and almost looked ominous, if such a word could be used to describe tea mush.

"Maybe I'm going to read a book in the future," Lawliet suggested.

A smile started to appear on Granger's face. Lawliet blinked.

"Your turn," Hermione said, shoving the tea cup at him, "If you tell me I'm going to meet a tall, dark stranger, I'll leave right now."

"As a significant percent of the population of this school are tall and dark, and you do not likely know all of them, your chances of seeing one today are around ninety percent."

"Are you joking?"

"No."

Granger looked at him in a worried way, but looked at the cup.

Lawliet looked at it in a bored way.

"What do you see?"

"Tea leaves."

Granger sighed.

"I know this is stupid, but we have to at least work at this," she said, huffing a little and seeming to expand, "You won't get good grades if you don't work hard, and you might have to deal with the first years."

Further conversation was interrupted by the fact that Trelawney was 'randomly' deciding to read Harry's cup. Lawliet had heard him and Ron snickering to one another, but was pretty sure that she was going to do something dramatic.

It would look so good to make some dark prediction about a celebrity, and it would get so much attention too.

Lawliet didn't really know why he did it. He mostly just felt like it, and he didn't like people who cheated to get respect. He'd met too many of them, and it didn't seem fair or just for her, who obviously couldn't predict if it would rain or not, to be preferred over candidates who had better experience, more talent, and needed the same job.

He suddenly threw his hands in the air as if in shock, let out out a gasp, and coincidentally knocked into the professor as she was starting to twirl Harry's cup around in a very theatrical kind of way. The sound of breaking china was rather satisfactory, but he turned to her with wide eyes.

"I'm terribly sorry. I thought I saw something in Granger's cup, but I was wrong," he lied.

The professor's lips pursed together in a very strict kind of way, and she drew a deep breath.

"No matter, my dear boy," she said in very breathy tones, "I foresaw what would happen the moment that I looked upon his cup. I saw...death..."

* * *

Having the assurance from Professor McGonagall that Trelawney had managed to predict the death of one student a year since coming to the school, Harry was able to listen to the animagi lecture in peace and go to Hagrid's class.

"So, since it's not anything to worry about, do you think we should drop the class?" Ron asked, "Who wants to hear that old bat moaning about death all the time?"

Harry was also pretty sure that the fact that Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil did. They were both engrossed in their Divination homework had also annoyed him. It was kind of irritating when they whispered to him in a low voices as if he was on his death bed or something.

It was a relief to be going to Hagrid's class.

Since Hagrid had never formally graduated from Hogwarts, it was going to be interesting to see just what he came up with. It would probably be exciting at least, and maybe, if they were lucky, Ron would forget about his anger with Hermione and Justin. Probably not.

It wasn't until he saw the backs of three very familiar people that he realized with a groan that this would have to be a double class with Slytherin.

"Why do we get pared with the Slytherins so often?" Justin hissed to him.

"Did you hear someone talking, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Er... because we do?" Harry didn't want to get involved with this fight, but he would answer a question.

Even if Ron was looking at him like he was a traitor.

Justin blinked at him and then looked back at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy seemed to have heard them and he turned to face them, giving Justin a very ugly look. Justin ignored them. Any real hostility was broken up before it started by Hagrid coming up, followed closely by Umbridge, the Assistant Professor. Harry had to wonder just what an Assistant Professor actually did. It sounded something like the person who would carry all the things that Hagrid didn't want to.

"Alright, you lot!" Hagrid called over to them, "Come over here. Great lesson comin' up!"

"We don't even sit in a proper classroom. Hogwarts is really going downhill. First that Mudblood who didn't even know he had magic until two years too late gets into our year, and next we have this oaf as a teacher. When my father hears about this...at least we have a somewhat decent aid. I'd be afraid he'd have thrown us to manticores or something..." Malfoy hissed to his friends.

Pansy Parkingson, a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug, nodded, "It's a complete shame."

Harry gave Justin a nervous look. Chances were that he would have no idea what a Mudblood was, but he might get angry, and the last thing that he needed was a repeat of last year. Particularly if Justin couldn't use magic. Justin either hadn't heard or didn't care, but Ron, despite the fact that he was still angry about Scabbers, was glaring at Malfoy.

"Do you think Hagrid would let me hex him?" he hissed to Harry.

"Only if you enjoyed a punishment. A teacher cannot afford favoritism," Maybe Justin had better hearing than Harry thought.

Ron glowered at him and turned away.

"Oh, really..." Harry heard Hermione mutter. He kind of wished that they would just apologize just so that they could all talk.

Though, Harry was a little surprised that Justin was still with them. Why hadn't he just hung around Dean or Neville? Than again, he was...well, Justin...and Hermione didn't seem to mind him much.

"Hermione, just apologize to Ron. That's all he wants!" Harry muttered to her.

Hermione gave him a very offended look.

"I haven't done anything! We don't even know if Scabbers is dead! If Ron would look for him instead of blaming us!"

Harry sighed as he walked over to the clearing where Hagrid was waiting. This could take some time. It He knew from experience that Ron and Hermione could go on like this for weeks, and Justin somehow struck him as being completely unbending. Looking like that, he'd have to be.

"Right now," Hagrid called over the crowd, "The firs' thing yer going ter want ter do is to open yer books!"

"How?" the derisive voice of Draco Malfoy cut across the crowd.

"What?"

"How do you open your books?" Malfoy continued, taking out his spellotaped book.

"Er...didn't anyone manage to open yer books?" Hagrid looked crest fallen.

Justin alone raised his hand. The others look at him blankly and took out their books. Someone them, like Harry, had belted their books shut. Others had put them into tight bags, used rope or clamped them shut.

"You've...you've got ter _stroke_ them," he said as if this was completely obvious, "Er...Wallace isn't that what you did?"

"No, I let it chew on my head for a while," Justin said, sticking a sucker that appeared out of nowhere into his mouth.

There were some snickers from the Slytherins, and Harry wondered just whose side Justin was on. He seemed utterly unaware of the glares from his housemates, who mostly supported Hagrid because the Slytherins hated him, and the amusement of the people who should have been his enemies. It looked like someone was going to need to sit him down and teach him the rules of the school or something.

"Er...right well...now that yer've got yer books open...you need the magical creatures..." Hagrid seemed to have lost a little of his wind, "So...I'll go get them..."

"_Hem hem," _the sound of Umbridge's small, breathy cough caught everyone off guard, "Mr...Hagrid...you don't seem to have a schedule for the lessons that you will be giving your students, may I ask a teeny tiny little question?"

Hagrid shuffled a little, "Er...I was gettin' to writin' that out...alright...what's on yer mind?"

Umbridge coughed again, "I was wondering if you were _quite_ sure that exposing young children to such dangerous animals as Hippogriffs was...wise...or if you had gotten Ministry approval for this class..."

"Well, I did talk to Dumbledore about it and-"

"I understand, but he isn't a member of the Ministry is he?" Umbridge said with a sweet smile that somehow set Harry's teeth on edge, "Something like that requires getting some kind of permission or proof of ones...capability..."

"Oh."

"But don't worry," Umbridge said brightly, "I've already set up something that I think the students will find as a perfect substitute... now... would you all please follow me and put your wands away?"

There were some sighs, and Hagrid was visibly upset, but there didn't seem to be anything that he could do.

Harry glared over at the other students somewhat relieved looks. How bad could it have been? He was certain that whatever Hagrid had had planned would have been far more interesting than what this Umbridge woman was going to do.

It looked like there was a covered area on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest that was used for the class. Umbridge had already prepared seats to be in pairs along with a small covered cage in front of it.

Harry and Ron sat down in one seat, and Hermione and Justin sat down a little away from them.

"Good morning, class," Umbridge chirped at him.

There were some mutters but mostly stares.

"Tut tut, that simple won't do," Umbridge said, wagging a finger in the air, "When I say good morning to your, your answer should be 'Good morning, Assistant Professor Umbridge'. Now, let's try again: good morning, class!"

"Good morning, Assistant Professor Umbridge," the class chanted back at her, but still managed to sound bored.

"Well, that's better," she simpered to the students.

Hagrid stood to one side, completely forgotten as he looked around in a confused kind of way, trying to get the class back under control.

"Now, I've given the matter a great deal of thought, but I think, Mr...oh sorry, _Professor_ Hagrid, that you should do something that the class has already had one experience with, though that time with with a teacher who most certainly did not meet the Ministry requirements for a a professor, so...we're going to review."

With a wave of her short, stubby want, everyone got a good look at just what was in the cages.

Cornish Pixies.

Harry blinked, and he looked around to see what everyone else reactions were. While everyone knew that the pixies weren't overly dangerous, at least so long as you didn't let them out of their cages, the Gryffindors had had a very bad experience. Word must have gotten around because the Slytherins were looking more or less suspicious as well. Blaise Zabini, a tall boy with high cheekbones and slanting eyes, had both eyebrows raised and was giving the pixies a more or less cautious look. Justin seemed to be the only one who wasn't overly worried, as he sat in his same crouch and didn't seem to even notice the pixie making faces at him through the cage.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if this ending in a Lockhart-ish way?" Ron hissed to Harry.

Harry smirked a little bit. There was just something about Umbridge that made him want everything she did to blow up in her face.

So, completely ignoring Hagrid, Umbridge began her lesson.

* * *

It was really a clever move.

While Lawliet found the woman's voice to be incredibly irritating, he had to admit that she had done and excellent job of taking power from Hagrid. There was a seventy-two percent chance that Hagrid wasn't going to be able to get power back for quite some time. As he had already made a mistake with the books, and the Gryffindor students didn't seem to have any real personal loyality to him, rather they were just siding with the man to make the Slytherin students annoyed.

Who came up with these rivalries?

The lesson itself was boring. Umbridge blathered in that voice of hers, coughing every so often, and addressing them the way that she would talk to very young children who may or may not have been dropped on their heads as infants. The facts about the pixies were mostly common sense things, and she didn't appear to have actually read the book (thirty percent chance of doing any actual research) before starting the lesson.

Still, she managed to put herself in control and at least pretend that she had some idea what she was doing.

All in all, she was obviously a politician.

The pixie itself was interesting, if only because it was blue, small, winged and seemed to be intelligent enough to cause trouble (did that mean that the legends of the Fair Folk were true as well?) and, from Granger's worried looks, had caused the students trouble before.

"You've dealt with these?" he asked after a while.

Granger sighed and looked at the blue thing, which was making a hostile gesture at her.

"Last year, we had a teacher in Defense Against the Dark Arts that let them lose," she said, in the kind of clipped tones that hinted that she didn't really want to talk about it.

Therefore making it worthy of pursuing.

"And this caused trouble? Is that why you need a new teacher this year?"

Granger sighed and gave him something of a dirty look.

"Lockhart was... very popular... so no. Besides, pixies aren't a big deal. We just didn't know how to handle them. Actually...he lost his memory so he had a give up his position. He was the second Defense teacher that we had...there are rumors starting to go around the the job is cursed..."

"This school sounds surprisingly dangerous."

Lawliet was distracted by Umbridge coming over to all but salivate over Harry, talking about how, as long as he did well, she was sure that the Ministry would be proud to welcome him into its fine ranks.

"Oh, honestly," Granger muttered, "She's so obvious. The only reason she probably took this job is because Harry was here..."

Lawliet cocked his head, and reached in his pocket for a hard candy that he knew he had put in there last night. He hoped that was the only reason, but judging by the one falsely sweet look she'd given to him, it was anything but just one thing.

"Well, what are we doing here?" Umbridge's voice drifted over to them, "Oh, how sweet, it's so kind of you to help out Mr. Wallace...it must be so difficult...particularly when you're unfamiliar with the creatures yourself."

Umbridge was speaking only the Granger, completely ignoring Justin's presence. Granger herself seemed to have noticed this and looked pretty irritated.

"Justin's fine. He's read the book, so we're at the same place," she said in those same clipped tones, and huffing just a little.

It was kind of fun to watch. She had such an obviously black and white view of the world, and she seemed to be attempting to find a place for the woman while still keeping her view of teachers as all wonderful people.

"Hagrid," Granger said, looking over that the giant, "What do you think of how we're feeding him?"

Hagrid looked more than happy to join into the lesson now that he had a chance.

"Well, Cornish Pixie's arn't to fond o' milk. They're picky little things. Usually, when ya have to work with 'em, it's best to use a bit o' cake...just a minute!"

Hagrid moved startlingly fast for someone so big, and in what seemed like a very short time, he had reappeared, holding a plate of...very hard looking rock cakes. Granger seemed to think the same thing, since she looked at the offered plate dubiously, and smacked the cake as hard as she could against the table, cracking it open, and soaked it in the milk before she offered it to the pixie. The little blue...thing...looked at it suspiciously, but took it and sat down to eat.

The other students who seemed to have been watching since Granger cracked open the bread, all grabbed one cake. Lawliet noted that Umbridge was looking at Granger, and it was a look that was cold and calculating and very ugly. Granger's life was likely to get worse very quickly, but she didn't notice that. Really, she looked rather pleased with herself.

Lawliet would admit that she was clever by figuring out how to break Umbridges power, but she wasn't clever enough. Maybe that was why he even opened his mouth.

"She's only going to repeat that next class," Lawliet said so that only Granger could hear as Umbridge walked towards the pug girl and her friends, "And now she knows that you are going to be difficult. That was a foolish move."

"I don't care!" Granger hissed back, "I won't let that old cow treat Hagrid any way she wants. It's not right. Besides, I didn't see you or anyone else willing to help him."

"Because this situation wasn't one that could be won automatically. Besides, Hagrid has the authority to tell her to stop. If he doesn't use it, that's his problem."

Hermione glared at him.

* * *

The best thing about the school was that the rumors flew around so quickly that Lawliet didn't even need the help of Wammy or the usual sources. However some of them were as useful as 'did you hear when those people did that thing at that place?'

"I heard that Sirius Black was seen in London yesterday!someone hissed to their friend.

"But I heard that he tried to get into the Gryffindor tower!"

"I thought that he'd just gotten into Scotland..."

While they were useless, it also meant that there was little anyone knew about his movements. At least, not anything that was being released to the public. The Ministry of Magic seemed like one of those annoying governments that seemed to think that it was alright to hide crucial information from people 'for their own good'

Maybe that was why they didn't have Wizard Universities. Because if there were, people would ask too many uncomfortable questions, and being that it would be a university, it would probably end up with revolutionaries.

Lawliet would be glad to never see it again.

Weasley still wasn't talking to him or Granger, and Harry was looking unhappy. Though he didn't tell his friend off, Lawliet supposed that in Harry's mind, Weasley had a justification. Granger was trying hard to look like she was morally right while she ate her steak and kidney pudding, but she was starting to look unhappy.

"Hey...Ron..." Harry said, looking over at one corner of the room, close to where they were sitting. "Isn't that...Scabbers?"

Ron glared at Harry, but didn't look up.

Lawliet turned around to see what Harry was looking at, and did notice a rat eating something that someone had dropped.

Lawliet couldn't tell the difference between one rat and another, but he did want to get this childish little division over with since it was hard to get close to Harry with Ron glaring at him. Apologizing would be a waste of time to him. Lawliet had seen people like him before, they didn't easily let go of grudges. He wasn't at the level of being someone he'd actually have to consider (at the moment, Malfoy's little friend was the only one on that list).

Also, for some reason, he just didn't want to play along with Weasley.

"It looks like him," Justin said.

"I think it's even got a toe missing like Scabbers," Harry said.

"Scabbers is dead," Ron muttered.

Lawliet sighed.

"There's a sixty percent chance at this moment that if your rat paraded in front of you, you wouldn't believe it," he said, ignoring Ron's glare.

"Can't you at least check on it," Harry sighed.

Ron scowled and looked down.

Hermione glared at him, stood up and pointed her wand at the rat and said clearly.

"_Patrificus totalus!"_

Apparently all spells were done in bad latin, since the rat froze and Hermione stalked over, grabbed it, and thunked it on the table in front of Weasley.

"Your rat, Ronald," she said with great dignity.

Weasley blinked, and grabbed the rat just the moment that the spell wore off.

"Scab-ouch!" he suddenly waved his hands as the rat bit him, and dashed off, disappearing into some hole in the castle (with one this old it wasn't all that surprising). Weasley jumped to his feet, and dashed out of the room after his rat.

For some reason, Lawliet felt a glow of satisfaction that usually only came once he had figured out the answer to a case. Granger was smirking, and even Potter looking a little happier.

When Ron came back he looked at the three faces staring at him, and scowled.

"Alright, so your pets didn't kill him. But they scared him enough to make him attack me!"

"Apology accepted," Granger said. She looked annoyed, but that was probably one of the few times where she got something like an admission of a mistake.

* * *

"So, how was your first day of classes?" Wammy asked that night as Lawliet looked over a case file.

Lawliet looked up and stared at Wammy. He wasn't sure why he was interested. It had little to do with the cases, and Wammy had seldom taken a great interest in such things in the past. Perhaps he was simply making conversation, but it was unlikely. (Twenty-nine percent)

"They are immature. Potter is depressingly oblivious to attempts of others to use his fame to their advantage, Weasley holds grudges like a young child, and Granger holds a black and white view of the world and justice that is unrealistic. None will be willing to listen to an opposing opinion, and in all likelihood they will end up the tool of whoever manages to convince them they are right without questioning anything."

Wammy looked amused.

"They sound to normal young teenagers to me," He said at last, "I take it that you don't get along with them?"

"I don't know if it's that simple," Lawliet shrugged, "They are extremely close knit, so it will not be easy to find excuses to follow Potter around without at least attempting to be 'friends' with him, and to do that, one must get past Granger and Weasley who do their best to guard him, though I'm not sure if it's through affection or ulterior motives yet. Weasley is angry with me because someone opened a window and that owl I bought attacked his pet rat. At the moment, Granger feels a camaraderie with me because her cat was also blamed by Weasley, but that is likely to pass quickly, and her views on how the world works is likely to cause trouble."

He never knew just how stupidly complicated working with people in this situation would be. There were so many things that had to be planned for. While Granger's view of morality was...cute...it was also a liability to him and his methods, which would have to be unimpeded by this.

Wait.

Then again...she might be the best one to use to get to Harry. Slowly a smile formed on his face, transforming it into something slightly more like the child he should have been.

Umbridge and Granger had just provided him with an excuse to hang around Granger, and therefore to hang around Harry. Weasley would respect it because of Granger. He should thank the Minister of Magic because by sending Umbridge, he had just provided Lawliet with the means to break into the trio's little close knit group.

"By the way, L, did you apologize for your owl?" Wammy asked suddenly. He had gone back to his reading, and he hadn't noticed Lawliet's smile.

"No. Why should I have? He couldn't prove anything, and the rat was still alive in the end."

"It might have helped you have a friendship with the boy and therefore one with Harry Potter. The lie would have been very useful."

"...I didn't wish to apologize," Lawliet said after a pause, leaning over his case file again, ignoring the smile on Wammy's face.

* * *

**Omake:** Evil Incarnate

"So...let me get this straight..." a seventeen year old Sirius Black said to James Potter, "You're afraid to entire your room because of a teddy bear?"

"It's not a normal bear anymore," James muttered darkly, looking at the door to his room, "It's evil incarnate. It's the devil in plush toy form. It's-"

"Still a teddy bear," Sirius muttered. "Honestly, Prongs, can't you take your own experimental spell?"

James looked at the door and ran one hand through his hair nervously. Something growled on the other side and Sirius raised one eyebrow. While he knew better than to enter his best friend's room without permission, he didn't know that James had figured out how to make his door growl at him. He'd have to asked how he'd done it.

"I made it for Lily, so she didn't have to deal with her sister or...other stalkers...digging through her stuff while she wasn't there. And it's really good at that kind of thing. The problem is I didn't remember put in how to make it stop in the spell or for it to...um...listen to me..." James sighed.

"And everyone thinks I'm the one who doesn't think before he acts," Sirius muttered. "This was why they did these kinds of things together. In case someone forgot something or made a mistake. (Or, in the case of Sirius, figured out the perfect way to do something without considering anything in the long term.) "How bad could it be?"

He opened the door the moment that James whispered to him, "It'll eat you."

For a moment Sirius got a good look inside the room, staring with a slightly open mouth at the small brown plush bear that was looking at him with very sharp looking, very big teeth. Then he closed the door the second that the thing sprang to attack. He stared at the door in silence for a while as James talked.

"It's a flesh eating teddy bear. Once I perfect it, not even Moldy-Voldy will be able to get through our things," James said, a touch of his usual egotism appearing in his voice.

"That was the most horrifying thing I've ever seen," Sirius finally said.

* * *

_And that's it for now. Honestly, I didn't like this chapter much, but it's important for building up changes and reasons and such. Next chapter I intend to introduce Snape and possibly Luna. I hope that you've enjoyed._

_Sorry for the delay, my Christmas break was pretty eventful since my grandmother stayed with us for the entire time. I will try to chug out the next chapter as soon as I can._

_Additional Notes:_

_Mopsy: Mopsy was a character in Rowling's earlier drafts of GoF. She was ultimately cut out, but I kind of wanted to use her again. I intend on using some of these rejected characters as opposed to using OCs. According to the Harry Potter wiki she was an __"e__ccentric elderly witch who lived at the edge of Hogsmeade. She was especially fond of dogs, and kept several, much to the chagrin of her neighbors" ...chagrin... I'm probably the only person who can't hear that word without giggling._

_Why L Didn't get a time turner: Because he didn't have anyone behind him saying how trustworthy and what a good student he was. He was new, and he didn't have Hermione's reputation. That and the Ministry doesn't overly like his involvement anyways._

_Tea: As a tea drinker myself, this is easily the worst way to drink tea. There is a reason for tea bags and strainers. The tea itself tastes fine. The leaves...not so much. It gets this awful bitter taste, it's too strong, and it has an aftertaste that can sometimes stick in your mouth for about an hour. I know this because I once had a tea bag split open while I was drinking it, and I was like 'oh, whatever, I'll drink it anyways'. Bad move, Pryotra._

_Umbridge: In the books, she had as much subtlety as a brick, but I'm trying to change that. Slightly. For one thing, she has no reason to hate Harry or Dumbledore, so her actions are going to be different._

_The Marauders: I'm thinking of having some of the omakes focus on them and some of the things that they did. Any thoughts on the issue?_

_Review!_

_~Pryotra_

_**And now for your local source of crazy: The Epitome of Eccentricity! Thank you, Pryotra, for allowing me to beta this. The chapter was very, VERY late due to problems on my side of things, mainly a huge virus that nearly destroyed my lap top. From now on, everything should be smooth sailing for any future chapters. Remember everyone, review!**_


	6. The Boggart in the Wardrobe

_Author's Corner: Busy couple of months. Very busy. I'm not going to bother to make excusses because really, you've heard them all before. I could say that I was abducted by aliens and made to slow dance or something, but that would be silly. _

_There have been some questions about Light, and well, unfortunately, as Light is around six right now, I can't say that we're going to be seeing much of him for some time. I'll add him as soon as I feel that his presence...makes sense. Also, remember, I'm not a Light fan, and while I'm not going to bash him, I will not...be kind...with his characterization. I'll write him just the way I've found him. _

_Rant Line: Evil Dumbledore. First, I don't like the man. I don't think he was right, and I was not impressed by the fact that he just happened to be hinted to have killed his sister (yeah, guys, he was) but at the same time, making him evilly manipulative for no reason takes all the interesting aspects out of this character. Really, in the HP universe, you don't really get people who are just 'good' or just 'evil'. That's what makes the whole thing interesting. Maybe it's the fact that I'm, frankly, a very pragmatic writer who doesn't get too attached to her characters, so I don't mind a character being morally ambiguous at times. _

_The Epitome of Eccentricity is a little busy at the moment, but when he's prepared, this chapter will be betaed by him.  
_

_Disclaimer: Pryotra owns no part of either franchise. She promises to put everyone in the right boxes when she's done playing._

_**Education is the period **__**during which you are being instructed by somebody you do not know, about something you do not want to know.**__**  
**__**GK Chesterton**_

* * *

The escape of Sirius Black had the ministry in a complete and total mess. Letters were flying everywhere, people were flooing in and out, everyone was being called off of their normal jobs, and nothing was even the slightest bit successful.

Azkaban had always been a symbol of complete and total security. In all of its centuries, it had never once been broken out of. Lucius personally thought that it was that which caused more panic than Black's actual escape. Nothing, including the Dark Lord's return would have caused so much of a blow to the public feeling of security. If Azkaban, which had stood in silent resolution against any and all lawbreakers, ranging from petty crimes to Dark Lords, could be breached, than nothing was truly stable.

To add insult to injury, the rest of Wizarding Europe, particularly France, was covertly snickering at England, offering some paltry assistance with barbed comments about how much they had depended on a medieval method for keeping order.

It was times like this that Lucius really wished he knew the particulars of how the rest of the world, other than Bulgaria and like countries (which tended to use execution), treated their criminals.

Lucius did have the thank Sirius for one thing though: it was thanks to his escape that Lucius had been able to get back some of his old position with the Ministry in the form of a very generous donation.

"Regrettable business last year," Fudge said as it looked at the number written down, "With the situation, it was an understandable mistake to make about Dumbledore. He is getting on in years...if it hadn't been for the rumors..."

Ah yes, the rumors. The reason for the trouble. It had been a stupid move to threaten the to put an ancestral curse on the Ravenswoods if they didn't sign, but Silas had been so stubborn... That with the rumors about the diary from Arthur Weasley were enough to have plenty of people, even those from respectable families, were avoiding contact with the Malfoys at the moment. It was best to appear at least neutral in these times.

"Has there been any news about Black?" Lucius asked as Fudge looked up.

"No, not really. The dementors are more angry than I've ever seen them before though," Fudge shuddered, "They're loyal and useful...but..."

"Of course," Lucius said, not too quickly.

"Mrs. Zabini reported a while ago that she assumed that she saw a man who matched Black's description near her manor, but it proved to be a false alarm. It's not to unexpected, the poor woman is in mourning again..."

Mrs. Zabini was...someone who Lucius always took care to avoid unless necessary. It wasn't that she wasn't from a respectable family, coming from somewhere around Egypt if he wasn't wrong. It was the fact that while she almost always married people with good families, most of them were even lower ranking Death Eaters, her husbands just kept dying for what seemed like no reason.

There was a load knock at the door and Mad Eye Moody hobbled in. For a moment, he and Lucius stared at one another, sizing each other up, then Moody walked past him and spoke to Fudge.

"We've got a lead from a Muggle woman who called the hotline a few days ago, Black was almost in Scotland. Takes bloody forever to get any news in this place," Moody growled, "Odd thing too, Black was usually more careful around Muggles. Azkaban's done a lot to him."

No.

Moody won't know about it. Sirius had always tried to pretend that he didn't have a sadistic side to him, but he was a Black. Sirius was sending a message. He was telling someone that he was coming to Hogwarts, and nothing was going to stop him, and nothing could be done to keep him away.

He didn't care if he was caught after he was done either.

But who would be the person?

Lucius made his goodbyes and excused himself. Moody was still suspicious of him. Thankfully, he was suspicious of everyone, and at the moment, the Malfoy family needed to keep its head down. He'd sent a note to Draco about that already. 'Talk to Umbridge and keep yourself neutral' had been his exalt words.

Particularly since the Ministry was so sure that it was Potter who was the target. As if there had been no one else to hold a grudge against after the First War.

Something seemed wrong about that theory. Sirius wouldn't bother to send a message to someone who didn't know what it meant. So maybe...maybe he was going after someone else? But who?

Lucius Malfoy was a man who had kept his influence well, and one of the ways that he did was to admit when he didn't have the information to make the best move possible. Perhaps it was time to have a chat with Narcissa about just why she wondered about Sirius. If it was something he should now, he would make a move from there.

* * *

It was clear from how the Slytherin students behaved that most of them were nearly drooling in anticipation for Potions class to begin. Lawliet had sat by himself this time, but Granger had sat with him. Ron and Harry paired themselves off.

This was as good a time as any to implement his plan.

"I've been thinking about Umbridge," he said, causing Granger to turn to look up from her book at him. She looked a little put out at having been interrupted, but Lawliet only cared so much.

"What about Umbridge?" she asked.

"About how it would be possible to cause her to lose some kind of influence over the students, or to cause her to have to retire," Lawliet said, "I am unfamiliar with the laws, but there may be something that could help us make her...uncomfortable."

"You're...serious?" Granger asked, "You'd help me research for something that might help?"

"Yes."

"And you aren't going to use this as an excuse to get out of homework?"

"Why would I make myself do more work to get out of homework?"

Lawliet didn't get the answer to that question as the door to the dungeon (was there a reason for the dungeon or was this some kind of intimidation?) opened and the man walked in. He was tall, thin, wearing the black robes that seemed to be standard and had a particularly sour look on his face as he was glaring at the students.

He was also a murderer.

Lawliet had been allowed to see some of the files on the teachers, so while he knew about such things as McGonagall having never taking on her dead husband's last name, he also knew that this man, Severus Snape (the names they came up with, though with 'Lawliet', he supposed that was slightly outside his judgment) had once been a member of the terrorist group styled the Death Eaters. As such, he had murdered, tortured and raped freely before turning spy right at the end of the war (convenient) and managed to avoid going to prison. He had the record for the most complaints of unfair treatment, yet Dumbledore refused to even consider dismissing the man.

Lawliet found this odd.

"I see you have all returned for another...fun filled year," Snape said, looking at the students, well, really the Gryffindors, with obvious dislike, "I doubt that there will be any changes from the records that each of you have already set."

For a moment, his eyes lingered on Harry. Oh, yes, that had been in the file as well. Snape loved to harass Harry because he didn't like Harry's dead father. Lawliet didn't really see just how bullying the son of your dead enemy did anything to hurt said dead enemy, but Snape wasn't the most logical person in the world.

Then Snape's eyes fell on Lawliet. Black on black. Lawliet had the impression of staring down some kind of predator. There was a ninty-two percent chance that Snape was debating with himself about whether or not Lawliet would be easy to break down psychologically. It also had an odd feeling that he was trying to read Lawliet's mind.

They continued staring at one another for a few moments, when an unpleasant smile appeared on his face.

"Wallace, I believe that you should be given the chance to make your own potion, rather than have Miss Granger give all the instructions to you as you go. Therefore, Granger you'll be working with Greengrass. Wallace, sit with Zabini."

Granger and Lawliet looked at one another and then Granger sighed.

"Gook luck," she said, as a thin faced girl with long blonde hair, green eyes and a frown walked over to them. She and Granger both gave the other a look of dislike and sat in a way that allowed them both to see as little of one another as possible.

There was a failed project. (Eighty percent. Foolish.)

Lawliet recognized Zabini as the one who had looked surprised at the pixies. At the moment he was looking at him with a more or less level look, and didn't speak as he sat down.

"You'll find the ingredients for the Shrinking Solution on the board," Snape said, looking around. "I hope that you'll have been keeping up with your reading this summer, as I have neglected to mention some of the other instructions."

There was snicker from Malfoy, and Lawliet noticed him smirking at Longbottom, who looked like he would have liked to have died right there.

"Look," Zabini said, scowling slightly at him, "I want a good grade. You want a good grade. You do the busy work on the board, and I'll do the real work."

Lawliet debated with himself about the befits and the detriments of telling Zabini that if he continued stirring the thing so quickly, he would over mix the hellebore.

While it would definitely give Lawliet something to smirk over, it would probably make the whole thing more difficult. Also, what did Lawliet care about grades, and why did he wish to give Snape the satisfaction of a conflict that he was so obviously setting up?

Ah, the joys of interaction.

* * *

Harry hoped that the most interesting thing to happen in the class would be Justin and Snape's staring match at the beginning of the class and how he and Hermione were forced to have different partners. Snape never wasted a moment to torment the Gryffindors, and he wasn't going to allow some kid who sat weird to be an exception.

Still, Harry had other things to worry about than Justin, his and Ron's Shrinking Solution was somehow curdling into a think ball and nothing that he or Ron were doing was helping. For a moment, he dearly wished that Hermione was there to at least give them something of a hint, but she was busy with Greengrass, and their potion didn't seem to be going well, judging from the hissed argument going on.

Harry distinctly heard something along the lines of 'my family's been making this potion for generations' and 'well, your family's been making this potion wrong for generations'.

Snape was just about to pass by their pitiful excuse for a potion when he stopped by Neville's potion (Neville was never allowed to be paired with anyone. Snape said it was for safety. Harry thought it was to humiliate him.) and dipped his spoon in to take a closer look. Harry could see the problem immediately. Instead the the green that even his potion was, Neville's had turned a bright neon-

"Orange, Longbottom? Did you truly manage to make this potion _orange_?" Snape asked.

Neville allowed himself a small squeak.

"Longbottom...I believe you own a toad..." Snape started, he had the look of someone just happening on a brilliant idea.

Neville nodded once.

"Well, we'll have to see just what your..new potion does on a living subject," Snape's smirk turned feral. "You have fifteen minutes to change that potion before we use it on your toad. No one is to help you. If you fail, it is very likely that your toad will be poisoned..."

Neville nodded. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking as Snape turned away. Harry saw him look around briefly, and then looked behind him to wear Hermione sat.

"Help me," he hissed to her.

Greengrass looked like she was going to open her mouth but Harry heard Hermione hiss, "Fine do it your stupid traditional way."

The two glared at one another for a moment, but then Greengrass turned away and started to work on the potion, ignoring as Neville started to stir feverishly while Hermione muttered under her breath. He seemed to be the only person to have noticed.

Well, almost the only person.

Justin was watching too. Zabini was leaning over their potion, while he watched Neville stirring. He seemed to be considering something, but with Justin, it was hard to tell.

"Freaky guy," Ron muttered under his breath, "Let's hope that he doesn't tell Snape."

It seemed that Snape was more interested in making Neville's life miserable then in looking at everyone's potions, since he told them all to empty out their caldrons without so much as bothering to look at any of them.

"That foul, evil, greasy..." Ron muttered under his breath as he helped Harry clean the cauldron.

Harry looked over at the still stirring Neville and noticed that Justin had stalked over to them.

"Is this behavior usual?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ron said. He was still a little sore about the fact that Nero had scared Scabbers off, but his hatred of Snape overcame any irritation that he still felt for the boy, "He's got it out for Neville, and everyone knows that he completely favors the Slytherins."

"And no one has complained?" Justin asked. His eyes were very wide.

Ron shrugged.

"Wouldn't do any good. If anything, he would probably make life worst for the person who whined about him."

Before Justin could say anything else, Snape swept past them.

"Everyone gather round," he called, standing over Neville's, now green potion, "If Longbottom has managed to make the potion right, his toad will be reverted into a tadpole, if he has not, as I'm certain is the case, the toad will likely be poisoned."

The Slytherins moved in first, most looking excited, but Zabini looked bored and Greengrass just looked sour. After them, the Gryffindors came, all looking worried, faintly sick, or (in the case of Justin) blank.

After a hard look from Snape, Neville realinquished Trevor. Trevor tried to hop away, but Snape held him fast, forcing the animal to drink from the ladle containing Neville's now green potion. For a while, the class held its breath, and then with a faint pop, Trevor the Tadpole started was wiggling in Snape's hands.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the Gryffindors.

"...Five points from Gryffindor..." Snape said softly as he took out and antidote, "I told you not to help him Miss Granger."

As he stalked away, Harry found himself turning over to Justin, and for the first time, his eyes weren't blank, or empty. There were very dark and had a kind of malice in them.

* * *

Professor Lupin was a very, very interesting person. Lawliet decided this the moment that he turned gum into a projectile weapon against the physical manifestation of all the negative feelings of what would, essentially be, every single student who had ever entered into the school.

Lupin had come into the class, asked them to follow him to a practical lesson and proceeded to lead the way. Judging from the looks that Weasley and Harry were given one another, this was something unusual. Which meant that, for a shabby looking teacher such as himself, it was a good move. The conversation with Peeves the Poltergeist (Lawliet had read about those before, usually they were invisible in studies. Did the presence of magic cause the power of the poltergeist to increase?) showed a strange kind of familiarity between the two, but Lupin definitely had the upper hand.

There was a moment where Lawliet saw something like an honest smile appear on the man's face as the poltergeist vanished that showed that this move had not been completely planned out, but still taken advantage of. So far of all the teacher, Lupin was the one who showed the most...cunning and thus was the most interesting.

It was too bad he was hiding something that was bad for his health. Lawliet wasn't sure what it was, but no one looked like that at roughly early thirties. Either drugs or some magical thing that Lawliet had never heard about. Since it wasn't likely threatening (forty percent, Dumbledore didn't seem to be the kind of person to allow something of that nature, despite what he thought of the man's judgement. Not unless there was a very good reason to overlook it.) Lawliet didn't really see a reason to snoop.

He had been friends with Black though.

That much was obvious. For one thing, it was in the file. For another, it was just common sense to have someone close by who might be able to anticipate Black's next move.

As they entered the teacher's lounge, Lawliet was surprised to see Snape there. He hadn't seen him as a person who socialized often with the rest of the staff, but when he faced the class, Lawliet understood. He wasn't here for the relaxation. He was here for confrontation.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I reserved this room for my class," Lupin said, an attempt at a smile on his face.

Snape looked him over and the smile faltered. The look he gave was one of such utter hatred, that Lawliet raised an eyebrow.

Grudge?

Ninety percent.

Snape made a grunting nose and brushed past Lupin on the way out of the room. Then he stopped without looking behind him.

"I feel that it is my duty to warn you, since I doubt that anyone else would, that this class contains Neville Longbottom. I wouldn't advise you to ask him to do anything complicated unless of course Miss Granger is behind him hissing instructions in his ear."

Longbottom, who was quickly gaining something almost like pity in Lawliet's mind, looked at the floor with his face red and Granger looked away with her eyes narrowed.

"I'll keep that in mind, Severus," Lupin said, cheerfully, and effectively brushing him off.

Oh, yes there was a history. One that Lupin would like to either forget or overlook, but was more than willing to maintain a kind of pseudo-obliviousness in order to keep a fight from breaking out. While it seemed the Snape was the one who felt like he had been wronged, there was a caution in the actions of Lupin that hinted that Snape was just as capable of being the aggressor.

So far, it seemed like this was the greatest thing to investigate.

"Why was he even there?" Granger muttered as after she'd answer a question (sounding rather like she'd just regurgitated some text) Lupin began to discuss Boggarts, which sounded rather interesting as they could chance their shape depending on what a person was most afraid of.

"Because he wished for further revenge against you and Longbottom for not allowing him to get his way," Lawliet said, more interested in the lecture. (So, did the existence of Boggarts mean that, at some level, all children had a degree of magic? After all, even a normal child could sense the presence of something under a bed or in a closet. He had always, even when suffering from the same thing counted it as nothing. Perhaps this was something that should be looked into as well.)

Granger scowled but looked ahead and Lawliet watched with interest as the Boggart version of Snape was suddenly forced into crossdressing. He liked the hat.

"Alright, everyone," Lupin called over the class. "We're going to stop a moment. Take this time to figure out the thing that you're scared the most of. Then, try to find a way to make it somehow funny. Then you'll need to get in line, and you can all have a go at the Boggart."

The class was looking at one another in a kind of excited way as they looked from one to another or others closed their eyes.

Lawliet could distinctly hear Weasley muttering something about legs.

But...what was he afraid of?

As he stood their, chewing on his thumb, nothing seemed to come up. He wasn't overly afraid to die. That would be stupid in his line of work. He had seen some of the most brutal means of killing so gore didn't bother him much anymore. The magical world was odd, and no doubt had dangers, but there was nothing that really stood out to him. Nothing was coming.

"Alright, everyone, line up!" Lupin called.

He wasn't ready.

* * *

Remus Lupin knew perfectly well that he was in a precarious position. He hadn't really needed Dumbledore to tell him that. He was also a possible threat to Dumbledore, since, really, Hogwart's reputation for choosing teachers wasn't the highest in the world at the moment. With the having a teacher attempt to steal the Philosopher's stone (the news that he had also been semi-possessed wasn't widely known) and another one simply being incompetent, the last thing Hogwarts needed was for people to hear that Dumbledore had hired a werewolf to teach their children. Still, Dumbledore hadn't known who else he could trust, and even though he'd refused in the past, Remus hadn't been able to bring himself to do so this time.

Not when Sirius was after Harry.

Sometimes, it still had an unreal quality to it. As if he was going to wake up one day to find that it had all be some kind of bizarre, Death Eater inspired nightmare. Sirius would never really betray them, and James and Lily couldn't possibly die so young. But it was real. Since with the fact that Harry's family was already...leery of magic, and the last thing that Harry needed was for a werewolf to be visiting him on occasion, he hadn't even seen Harry before this.

He looked so much like James that it sometimes hurt. Though he was quieter, and where James had surrounded himself with friends and admirers even outside his closest friends, Harry seemed content with only a small group. It was like neither of his parents, and, selfishly, Remus was glad. He wouldn't have known what to do if he'd seen the Marauders Version Two. His heart might not have been able to take it.

Still, no matter what, he wouldn't allow Harry to take on the Boggart. The last thing that the class needed, particularly those like Miss Brown, would be to see Voldemort appear in the class room. Particularly a Voldemort blown up by the stories people told about him. Even if he had to show off his moon, it would be better that way.

Besides, at least Harry had the image of Severus wearing Mrs. Longbottom's rather distinctive clothing to make him feel better. James would have been jealous.

As Ron Weasley's spider disappeared, Remus watched as the last of the group come forwards. Miss Granger, who had already answered a question, Harry, and a boy named Justin Wallace who looked as if he needed to be forced out into the sun and a good nap. He also looked at the now legless spider in that blank way that students usually had when they had no idea what they were supposed to do.

Did he not know what he a most afraid of?

"Here," Remus said, stepping forwards as Harry began to make a move.

With a crack, the Boggart changed into a small orb like moon with no clouds around it. Doing a good job of looking like a floating crystal ball. That was the problem with Boggarts. They didn't realize that while the thing might represent something terrifying, but they weren't smart enough to realize that the thing itself wasn't particularly frightening.

"_Ridiculus_," Lupin said calmly, "Finish him off Neville!"

Maybe it wasn't kind to poor Severus, but it would help Neville, who seemed to have a self-esteem problem, and...well...

There was a brief glimpse of the crossdressing Snape before the Boggart suddenly retreated into the wardrobe. Showing a good deal more sense than most of them did.

"Well," Remus said with a smile at the class. "That's all for today. Please take your bags with you!"

Harry looked like he would have liked to stay, but Ron was already ushering him out followed by Hermione, the two talking quickly. Neville walked out with a good deal more spring in his step than earlier. Actually, the one who stayed was Justin.

"Mr. Wallace, is there something you need?" Remus asked, hoping that he wasn't going to start asking why he hadn't been allow to fight the Boggart.

"Professor, is it possible for me to see the Boggart?" Justin asked in a monotone voice that was almost as unnerving as his stare, "I was unable to think of what I was most afraid of...so I wished to see."

For a moment, Remus considered it. He supposed, if Justin panicked, then he could step in and deal with the moon again. He was lucky to have such a...well...inoffensive problem.

"I don't see why not. Hopefully, the Boggart's up for another go," Remus smiled. It faltered a little at Justin's unchanging stare.

Turning around, Remus unlatched the wardrobe again, and as Justin stepped up a sudden sickening scent filled the air. Remus stared in a kind of surprised horror at what was lying before Justin. It wasn't a monster. It wasn't even a person.

It was a corpse.

It was wearing some kind of school uniform, and seemed small. Maybe a child. At least, what he could see through the fire that surrounded it. It gave off a horrible smell that Remus's very sensitive nose was picking so much of that it was making him feel light headed. He almost didn't notice the door open a little as Hermione looked in with wide eyes. She and Remus looked at one another, and then she closed the door.

"Oh," Justin said, staring down at it, in a kind of far away voice. "So that's it. I'm sorry professor, but I can't make it funny."

"I..." Remus put out one hand, gripped Justin by the shoulder and steered him back, stepping in front of him. "That's fine."

The Boggart, now a moon again, was easy to put back, and before Remus had a chance to say anything, the boy was already more or less shuffling towards the door, hands in his pockets. For a moment Remus considered going after him, but stopped.

At thirteen, Remus doubted that he would have wanted comfort from a complete stranger.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure just how he'd gotten roped into this by Harmione, but he was surprised to see Justin there with them, with a sucker in his mouth, holding a book between his thumb and forefinger and turning the pages gingerly.

They were all in a secluded part of the library, close to the Restricted Section. Not that Harry wished to attempt to see anything there.

"Er...so what are we doing?" Ron finally asked, looking around at the other three.

"We're looking for something to make Umbridge stop what she's doing," Hermione said as if it was completely obvious. "There must be something in here that can help us!"

"Er...what's she doing?" Harry asked.

They couldn't exactly get her in trouble for taking over a lesson could they? While Harry didn't like her, it was hard not to dislike her, he didn't think she'd done anything actually wrong. It just felt like everything she said to Hagrid was rude.

"She's trying to take Hagrid's position!" Hermione said. "There must be something in the library about how we can keep her from doing it. Maybe even a case where it happened before at Hogwarts!"

"Well, yeah, but, Hermione," Ron said, "We can't get her sacked just because she's pushy in her lessons. That's something that Hagrid would have to do, and if he's not going to do it to the old toad well..."

"It's likely that the founders of the school were unwilling to allow the government, such as it was, to interfere in how the school was run," Justin said, looking up from his book, "While there is nothing wrong with her taking the lesson, there might be something wrong with the fact that she's an official first and a teacher second."

"But there's never been something like that happen before," Ron protested. "The Minstry's never really tried to interfere. People would remember if it had. After all, Hogwarts is the best magic school in the world."

"Really?" Justin asked, looking up for the first time, "Who made that assessment?"

Harry wasn't sure if it was an innocent question or he was implying something. There was nothing wrong with Hogwarts. How could a school be better than it? Actually, Harry hadn't really thought much about other magic schools before Justin had turned up, but really, everyone knew that Hogwarts was the best school, but...the Ministry was doing something...

"But the Ministries forcing the Dementors," Harry said. He decided to ignore Justin's last comment, just because he really didn't know better. Hermione would probably correct him anyways. "I don't know. Maybe we can find something to get rid of them and Umbridge, but won't the teachers have already tried?"

"Maybe, but we have longer than they do," Hermione said, " After all, they only had a few weeks at most, and if we stary looking through everything there, we might find something her that they might have missed or overlooked. It's at least possible. I wonder if I can ask Binns..."

Harry blinked. Professor Binns was their only ghost teacher. He had apparently fallen asleep in the teachers' lounge one day and got up to teach class and left his body behind him. His lectures were so boring that he made even the most bloody actions of the middle ages uninteresting. The only time he'd even somewhat been interesting was when Hermione had gotten him to talk about the Chamber of Secrets last year, and he didn't think that was going to happen again.

"Binns'll probably just ignore you like he wanted to with the Chamber thing," Ron sighed,"I wish we had a good History of Magic teacher."

"I wish Hermione would let us play gobstones. Binns wouldn't notice," Harry muttered.

"Of course not!" Hermione said, "Just because the class is boring doesn't mean that you can just skive off! One day you might need to know some of the things he talks about!"

"But I can never remember anything!" Ron hissed.

"I don't believe that the professor has anything to do with whether or not Umbridge's connection to the Ministry can be used to our advantage," Justin pointed out, "It doesn't sound as if he can be used to gain information easily."

Ron narrowed his eyes at him.

"Why is it that you just made me feel like this is...wrong," he said at last.

"Because you're not used to politics," Justin looked back at the book he had been reading.

Harry and Ron looked at one another and shrugged.

"Well, if we're looking for things with Hogwarts and the Ministry, maybe we should look at what the original founders put down," Hermione said thoughtfully, "I'm sure there must be something in the original laws. I remember _Hogwarts: A History_ mentioning something once..."

"Was there a Ministry?" Harry asked. He'd been under the vague impression that the Ministry was a new thing.

"Er...kind of," Ron said, "I heard that that the Wizengamut used to be a big meeting between heads of families and...stuff. They changed it after a while, but...some of the old families still keep most of their influence."

For a moment, all Harry and Hermione could do was stare at him. Even Justin looked back up to fix his black eyes on the redhead.

"Percy mentioned it once," Ron said, his ears turning red.

"So, then there should be something about it, right?" Harry said, "It doesn't matter if it was old families or the normal Ministry anymore does it?"

"I'll have to reread _Hogwarts: A History,"_ Hermione said. Harry noticed that she sounded pleased with the whole thing.

"I suppose I'll research the government and school interactions in the past," Justin said, "I believe that there are some Educational Decrees or something to that effect that might be useful."

"By the way, Justin," Harry said, looking at him curiously, "Why are you helping? You don't really know Hagrid."

Justin blinked at him slowly.

"I like fair things," he said at last. "The actions of the Assistant Professor are grossly unjust and seem to have some form of bigotry behind them. I dislike it, so I will help in making her either leave or be forced to obey the laws."

Harry supposed that that was good enough. Particularly since, for the first time since he'd seen Justin, he seemed to have a kind of life in his eyes. That wasn't creepy. Actually, as a kind smile appeared on his face, he looked like a normal, if kind of shy, kid.

Besides, it distracted him from the gnawing feeling in his stomach that had started when Lupin hadn't let him tackle the Boggart.

Lupin probably thought that he was 'delicate' or something like that. Since it was him and Justin, Harry supposed that Lupin was worried that they'd faint or something again.

He just knew that somehow, Malfoy was going to get wind of this and use it to his advantage.

"Er...so what do we do?" Ron asked suddenly. "I could ask Percy some things. He tends to know a lot about the Ministry these days. He's taking his NEWTs this year, and he wants a job with the Ministry so..."

"That might be a good idea," Hermione said, "Maybe he'll know if things have changed from how the Ministry and Hogwarts related."

"Er..." Harry said. There was nothing that he could think of to do, "I'll...do research..."

Then he realized that Justin had already volunteered. He opened his mouth to say never mind, but everyone seemed satisfied.

And was it just him...or did the way that Justin was crouched seem...smug.

* * *

By the time that a few days had passed, Sirius almost felt like himself.

The dreams were fading and slowly being replaced with memories. Not jumbled up, confused impressions that had first plagued him, but actual happy moments in his life. Meeting James, being allowed to stay with his family, the first time he rode a motorbike, everything was coming back to him. Soon, he'd probably start getting more of his power back.

He also couldn't have been in a better position. Mopsy was completely insane, but she knew how to take care of dogs. She had to. There were about ten strays that came and went from her house, and four or five that stuck around. The dog wasn't the best at numbers, and Sirius honestly didn't care. He blended in perfectly.

And he needed that. It was only when he'd been suddenly being presented with food that he realized that he was starving. Really, he'd been living off of sheer determination more than anything else. If he lived, he'd have to find a way to thank Mopsy.

The dementors had appeared just the night before, gliding around, sniffing for him, but they ignored him with all the other growling dogs. It had been wonderful. The only problem was the Mopsy wasn't too keen on allowing him to go off on his own.

"Oh, no you don't," Mopsy said, as Sirius looked longingly at the gate, wishing that he could turn into his human form just for a moment, "I know my handsome ones. The moment that you get a whiff of freedom, you'll be gone in a flash. Then what will become of you? I'll worry myself sick!"

Sirius suppressed a doggy sigh and allowed himself to be hugged and petted by the woman. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but the other dogs seemed to be relieved that it wasn't them. He'd have to sneak out in the middle of the night then. The other dogs were used to his scent now, and even if it did change, chances were that they'd ignore it. After all, he needed to get a good look around the Hogsmead, make sure that nothing to big had changed, and plan things out.

It was getting close to Halloween. Harry and the other students would be at the feast, leaving Wormtail alone in the tower. With any luck, he could stab the filthy traitor and leave the corpse for Dumbledore to find. Wormtail would be in a panic around this time anyways. After all, he'd have been paying attention. He'd have been getting Sirius's messages, and, as anyone close to Wormtail knew, he never thought well when he was panicking.

So, Sirius would sit and plan, and remember another Halloween that had taken place twelve years ago in Godric's Hollow. That, coupled with the knowledge that his best friend's son was in danger of the same thing happening, would give him the strength to act.

* * *

The news of Snape wearing Neville's grandmother's clothing spread like wildfire, and for a while, Snape seemed to have trouble teaching a class without the students either avoiding his eyes, giggling or looking vaguely horrified. Naturally, he was even more cutting to Neville than usual, and some of the looks that he sent to Lupin were...even more hateful than the ones that we usually sent to Harry. If that was even possible.

That didn't matter though, since Professor Lupin was easily the most popular DADA teacher that the school had had in quite some time. Even Draco Malfoy, for all his comments on how badly dressed the man was, only got a lukewarm interest from the other Slytherins, and Hermione once mentioned that she'd heard from Ginny who'd heard it from a Ravenclaw named Luna Lovegood that some of the Slytherin girls, including Pansy Parkingson were planning among themselves about how to send him some fancy robes anonymously

But, in Harry's mind, there were other problems.

"First Hogsmead weakend..." Ron said, looking at the flyer that had just appeared in the Gryffindor common room, "You reckon you can ask MacGonagall to sign your form?"

"I've already asked her," Harry said miserably, "It was all I could do you keep her from taking me off the Quidditch team thanks to Sirius Black."

Oliver Wood, his Quidditch captain, would have had an apoplectic fit. Though she sounded like she was announcing someone's death at the time, so it hadn't been that hard to convince her.

"Maybe Dean can forge your uncle's signature then..." Ron said thoughtfully.

"I told her that he hadn't signed. She'll probably think it's odd if it arrives. After all, the Dursley's never actually send me anything," Harry sighed. The only person in their year who wasn't going was Justin, and Justin was honestly so disconcerting that Harry didn't know how he was going to spend an afternoon with him.

Ron was glowering.

"Why'd you tell her?" he muttered. "Well, Hermione and I'll bring you as much as we can. If that helps"

Harry nodded and sighed. He supposed that it was stupid to want to go to the town when there was a mass murderer after him, but he really, really wanted to. He'd seen Diagon Alley, but the idea of a town where everything was magical sounded really amazing. Not just the candy or the history, but just the fact that people used magic day to day and it was as usual as electricity.

"I suppose that it will only be the two of us than," Justin said, appearing behind them.

Ron jumped.

"Don't do that!" he said angrily.

Justin just blinked at him, and took out a green hard candy from his pocket.

"I bet you wish you were going to Honeydukes," Ron said, smirking at him slightly.

"It does sound interesting," Justin nodded. "Though some of the things described to me do not sound like candy."

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Acid pops."

Ron shuddered, "Fred gave me one of those once. It burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mom smacking him upside the head with a rolling pin..."

Justin started chewing on his thumb.

"And that was it?" he asked.

"And your brother...did not get into anymore trouble than that?" he asked at last.

"Nah," Ron said, he looked a little annoyed at the memory. "Besides, Mum fixed my tongue right up, so it wasn't a problem. I wonder if I could get him to take Cockroach Cluster...George once mentioned to me that they kind of looked like peanuts..."

"I see," Justin said slowly, walking away.

Ron watched him go.

"You know, he's a creepy one, but I don't think he found that story funny. He's the first," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because Muggles take so long to heal. Didn't you say that they can't fix things up quickly?"

"Er...sometimes Muggles can't fix things at all," Harry said.

Ron shuddered.

"Glad I'm a Wizard," he muttered. "Hermione once tried to explain what her parents did for a living. You know, I think they're torturers, and Hermione hasn't realized it."

"Yeah. I don't think Justin much likes it though," Harry said, watching as Justin took a crouch in a chair and stared to paw through a book.

"Whats there not to like?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. He didn't know, but...well...it wasn't like he'd had left much behind him. Maybe Justin had a family or something who hadn't been thrilled about his going to magic school. Or maybe they had but he hadn't. He'd never heard of someone declining Hogwarts, but maybe there were some Muggleborns who didn't like it much.

Well, they could go back when they were done anyways.

Couldn't they?

Harry had never much paid attention to careers and further schooling. When he was with the Dursleys, it was pretty clear they were only sending him to school because they had to, and the idea of university or anything like that was...almost funny. Maybe it was different for Justin.

Harry decided not to worry about it.

* * *

Lucius wasn't sure just how he was going to ask Narcissa about Sirius. She had seemed to emotional a few days ago, and he was worried that she would just get upset again. Finally, he decided to bring it up one evening over dinner.

The problem was bringing it up to her.

Dinner was served in the large dining room, complete with the portraits of both of their families looking down on them and conversing with one another. Usually, Lucius enjoyed the formalities, but tonight, he would have given a great deal for all the portraits to be visiting someone and for the two of them to be very close to one another so that he could tell just what she was feeling about the conversation.

Lucius ate in silence and answered halfheartedly to any attempts at conversation that Narcissa made.

"Are things going so badly for us that you cannot break your thoughts away from your work for one instant?" Narcissa asked, she was sitting very straight and a slight sneer was in her voice.

"No," Lucius said, "We're doing as well as we can with Mad Eye sniffing around for any of our involvement with Black's escape."

Narcissa looked away.

"Does he really think that we're involved?" she asked.

"Apparently, he thinks that all old families, despite their personal views, are always united," Lucius said.

Narcissa snorted.

"But, I noticed something odd," Lucius plowed ahead, "Black's behavior...seems to be too deliberate. He was being seen at very certain places, and always getting closer to Hogwards. Moody thinks that this is Azkaban's influence, but I believe that this is a message. He's telling someone that he's coming."

Narcissa took a drink from her wine goblet and looked at her food.

"Sirius..." Narcissa started. "You must understand, I was only close to Sirius when we were children. Once I went to school, I considered myself too old for most of the games my cousins played, and I didn't pay all that much attention to Sirius when he came to school. I just saw him as going through a mildly rebellious phase...but I know this... You told me that the Ministry thinks that Sirius is after the Potter boy, but...Sirius wouldn't be going through this effort for him."

"I've thought the same," Lucius admitted, "Even if Sirius were trying to bring the Dark Lord back by killing the boy, he wouldn't be theatrical about it. There was nothing in it for him...Do you think that he's after Severus?"

Lucius remembered that Severus and Black had had something of a history of hatred for one another. It was hard to tell where it really started. It just seemed that Black couldn't stand the sight of Severus.

Narcissa looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps," she said, taking a dainty bite of her pheasant, "but I'm not sure. I don't think that Sirius would have a reason to pursue the man like this. Do you think that he believed that Severus was a traitor?"

Lucius nodded. That was possible. After all, if he remembered right, it was Severus who had convinced the Dark Lord to go after the Potters that night. Lucius didn't really know why the Potters had to be attacked, and he'd never really asked questions about it. Perhaps Sirius believed that Severus had done this knowing it would lead the the death of the Dark Lord. Or perhaps Sirius, despite changing his loyalties, had cared for his old friend and blamed Severus for convincing the Dark Lord to attack them. Lucius had always wondered if it had been because of the pranks that those four played on him that had spurred that.

Perhaps Sirius believed the same thing, and had no interesting whatsoever in Harry Potter.

At any rate, he needed to speak to Severus about it during the Christmas holidays. Sending an owl would be risky and despite all of Dumbledore's idealistic ramblings about how he trusted Severus, he kept a close watch the man's activities around the school. Dumbledore hadn't completely forgotten just why Severus had been the Dark Lord's closest aid.

Well, Dumbledore kept a close watch on everyone's actions around the school, Lucius corrected himself.

Perhaps he'd be able to take a trip to Hogsmead and run into Severus there.

"Lucius," Narcissa said, "I heard from Octavia Bulstrode that Dumbledore has hired Remus Lupin. I remember that he was one of Sirius's school friends. He was also a suspected spy for the Dark Lord."

Lucius blinked. He had forgotten that. So there were two likely targets who would have been close enough to Black to warrant the psychological attack that he was using.

"Draco told us that there was a Hogsmead Weekend coming up, and I right?" Lucius said, swirling the wine in his goblet thoughtfully, "I'm going to pay Severus a visit."

* * *

**Omake: **Mythology

Remus, Peter and Sirius couldn't help but stare. James just scowled at them.

"You know, I think we've discovered how legends are born," Sirius said thoughtfully, tossing his hair and smirking James.

James eyes narrowed further.

Remus coughed a little, "I guess the Ancient Greek Muggles really did know what they were talking about," he said, and was immediately engulfed in another coughing fit.

"Wow." was all that Peter managed to say.

"You think Lily will like it?" Sirius asked James."

"Oh, will you shut up," James said, taking a few unsteady steps forwards, "I'm not the one who started growling at Bone's cat yesterday."

Sirius shrugged.

James took another few steps forwards and nearly overbalanced, the deer's hind feet really weren't good for supporting a human torso.

"You think we should take a picture of the 'mysterious satyr' and sent it to one of those Muggle newspapers that publishes tribe like three headed chickens giving birth to women?" Sirius asked.

"Actually, he'd been a fawn," Remus pointed out and ignored Sirius's shrug.

"I hate all of you," James muttered. He promised himself to spend hours in the prefect's bath practicing just so that he could show them up the next time they practiced their Animagi.

* * *

_So that's it for the chapter. I really...can't think of anything more that wouldn't be going into the next one. As I said above, sorry for the long wait. I've been a little distracted by my attempts to review some of the books that I've read and I didn't like. Rather like the crew at TGWTG. Hope you've enjoyed the chapter, and hopefully, I'll have the next ones out sooner._

_Additional Notes:_

_L and Snape: I honestly can't see L as the type who would be all that sympathetic of Snape and his...many...many issues. L likes fair things. Snape is not fair, and L is not overly a sympathetic person to begin with. So, there's not going to be a lot of bonding between the two. Tolerance, maybe. But no real liking. Both are a little bit too strong in personality to have that. _

_The Toad Thing: I thought that this should be added in, because I'm going to try to give a fair picture of Snape. While he did do some decent things, he also did some pretty scummy ones. No, I'm not going to blow him out of proportion, but I am not going to stick him in the Leather Pants either. _

_Peeves: Honestly, he interests me, simply because of what he is. I might actually have him playing a little more of a roll in this than he played in the book simply because of some things I've read about poltergeists. Since he doesn't actively attempt to harm the students, he's not like some of the cases I've read about._

_Wizengamut: I'm guessing that the Wizengamut came from the Witengamut, which was a meeting of the local Saxon Lords to decide things prior to the Norman invasion. William wasn't overly interested in. Chances are it would have just been the most powerful families who met, so I'm going to run with that idea. I'm not going to have a lot about 'Lord' Potter and I really, really don't like the whole 'Dark' families and 'Light' families since there was never a Light side even mentioned in the books. It seems unnecessary in this story._

_Review!_

_~Pryotra_


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